


Galaxy Eighty Six

by orphan_account



Series: There (and back again?) [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BD-1 is officially in charge, Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Cody deserves a vacation, Cody needs a hug, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Families, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Have A Bad Feeling About This, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Mind Manipulation, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team Bonding, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-22 07:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 48,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22578790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Obi-Wan, Cal, and Cody have their first assignment. Something easy. Something simple. Something to give them time to bond and to learn how to work together.Cody doesn't bother trying to explain that nothing involving Obi-Wan Kenobi is ever easy. Or simple. And in this case, it is more than likely going to involve pirates.
Relationships: BD-1 & Cal Kestis, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-224 | Cody & Cal Kestis
Series: There (and back again?) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624687
Comments: 888
Kudos: 1385





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would highly recommend reading 'Edges' before reading this story, as its full of time-travel type shenanigans that won't make a huge amount of sense otherwise!

Cal Kestis isn’t even close to old enough to pass for Obi-Wan’s father, but they do share a number of similarities that make the cover story of them being brothers an easy sell. Cal’s hair is darker and longer than Obi-Wan’s soft auburn spikes, his eyes green, not blue. They’re both pale and slimly built. Cal’s taller than Obi-Wan will ever be, but he’s not the towering, intimidating presence of the boy’s former Master Qui-Gon Jinn. He’s boyish and charming, unassuming, and he keeps himself in front of Obi-Wan every chance he gets. Commander Cody, by force of habit, is never more than a meter behind them. If Obi-Wan has noticed their protective flanking, he’s yet to say anything.

He doesn’t seem to have much interest in speaking at all. He’ll respond politely enough when asked a question but is otherwise lost in his own thoughts. It's been three days since the Jedi High Council have given him to Cal as a padawan learner. He's had long enough for the Healers to announce him fit to travel after his run-in with Xanatos, Master Jinn's former apprentice turned rogue Jedi, but it's barely been a week since his return from the wartorn planet of Melida/Daan and his head is still clearly reeling from yet another dramatic turn. Even the bustling spaceport around them is doing little to hold his attention and after bumping into Cal for the third time, the Jedi Knight finally turns to his new apprentice. “Pay attention, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan flushes with embarrassment and wilts a little at the reprimand. “Yes, Master. I’m sorry.”

The honorific makes Cal cringe. Not for the first time, Cody wonders what in the seven hells Yoda was thinking by pairing the two of them together. Cal is eighteen with less than a year of his own padawan training and a visible catalog of trauma to his name. Obi-Wan is thirteen, gifted, and possibly the only hope they have of saving the galaxy. His training and potential future is an enormous pressure to put on even an experienced Master, let alone someone as young as Cal.

That’s probably where Cody comes into things.

If Cal is going to be more of an older brother to Obi-Wan than he is a father, Cody can help with that. He’s had a lot of experience with younger siblings.

First on the list? Find a way to convince the boy that not everything is his fault. And _shab_ , even if it _is_ his fault, the world isn’t going to end. His General was bad enough at hoarding grief and guilt, self assigning the blame where often none was to be found. Cody couldn’t help then, not when the mere nature of Obi-Wan’s rank meant that responsibility was automatically his to assume. He’s not about to dance to the same beat, not when Obi-Wan is a teenager and he’s the adult and, for once, in a position to shield him from the worst of it.

“Hey?” Cal says a little hesitantly. “You wanna do something fun?” The line they are stood in as they wait to board their transport has come to a stop. Several places ahead of them, two Dressellians argue heatedly with a young woman positioned on the boarding gate.

“Master?” Obi-Wan manages to look both politely curious and completely disinterested at the same time.

Cal doesn’t let it phase him. “A training exercise,” he says more confidently. “A fun one.” He looks to Cody and snorts when Cody merely raises an eyebrow. “Well, mostly fun. Let’s call it observational.”

Training does sound fun, at least to Cody, but he’s been informed that he’s ‘ _boring_ ’, ‘ _kirfing boring_ ’ and ‘ _shoot me in the head I’m never letting you plan our social activities again_ ’ by various vode over the years. In his defense, his day to day workload carried a high probability of fire, explosions, attempted murder, and Sith, so he thinks he was entitled to find paperwork and drinking his General’s favorite tea a relaxing and enjoyable pastime.

His views are clearly not shared by the teenager in their group.

Either of them. Sweet gods, he’s too old for this.

“Look around you,” Cal drops his voice lower until it can only be overheard by the two of them. “There are hundreds of different people here. They all have different lives, different dreams, different beliefs. Tell me who the biggest threat is.”

“Cody,” Obi-Wan says flatly.

“Hey!”

“You look like you want to punch something,” the boy shrugs.

“He always looks like that,” Cal smirks.

“You’re both hilarious,” Cody says, not even attempting to defend himself. He maybe doesn’t want to punch someone _this_ second, but he’s always ready to. The faintest hint of a smile touches Obi-Wan’s face. He’ll take being the subject of fun if that’s the result.

Cal seems to agree, relaxing into the exercise and pulling Obi-Wan closer. He puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder and draws him around so he has a better view of the milling crowds.

Cody knows of only three people who had been allowed to touch the General so casually, and he’d been proud to be one of them. Anakin held his implicit trust, and Duchess Satine...

It’s hard, seeing Obi-Wan as a boy, equally as touch starved as the man Cody knew, but with none of the physical aversions he will later develop.

No. No, he _won’t_. He won’t develop them because Cody is going to stand between him and the people who will teach him to flinch from their touch and rip their spines out. He’s not going to let the boy be beaten, starved and tortured the way his General so often was. He’s not going to leave him vulnerable to the aching hurts of being abandoned and betrayed by the people who are supposed to _protect_ him.

Obi-Wan is going to grow up confident and happy and loved if Cody has to shoot every karking person they ever meet...

“Beep beep,” BD bounces from Cal’s shoulder to Cody’s and nuzzles under his chin. “Oi,” he scolds, trying to maintain his scowl, “stop that.”

“He likes you,” Cal chuckles.

“He likes everyone,” Cody grumbles.

“Boop boop zeep!” 

Not Xanatos. That's fair. “Yeah, okay, he was a -”

“Beep beep!”

“Crude, but accurate.”

Obi-Wan looks scandalized. Apparently he picks up his ability to curse like a drunk verd later on in life.

They’re going to need to sit the kid down and establish just what life experience he actually has. What languages can he speak? What combat training? Cody’s got no idea what kind of progress young Jedi are supposed to make with lightsabers, not when fourteen-year-old Ashoka was frequently allowed to charge merrily across the front lines and Anakin was considered one of the most physically brutal opponents a seppie might encounter. Obi-Wan had a hand in both their training, but that doesn’t mean he’s combat-ready _now_.

“What about the Bothan?” Cal’s voice draws him back to focus. They still haven’t moved forward in the line.

“Bothan’s aren’t a violent species,” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Not really. Not unless you’re in political opposition with them at least.”

“Then why’s that one armed and trying to hide it?” Cal asks him. Cody’s gaze narrows in on the barely perceptible bulk beneath the heavy fabric of his cloak. “Don’t generalize, and don’t judge based on a being’s race. Look at the individual. Tell me what you see.”

There’s nothing cold or unkind in Cal’s voice, but he’s quietly serious, his focus intense and alert. This is a kid who, no older than Obi-Wan is now, was attacked by his own men and thrown, alone, into a world where his kind was hunted down and murdered. You don’t survive something like that without picking up some sharp observational skills.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know the details of Cal’s experience, but he hears the words and respectfully obeys the lesson his new Master is trying to teach him. “He’s armed,” Obi-Wan nods slowly. “And he carries himself like a soldier - he’s scoping his environment, keeping his exits open.”

“Very good,” Cal says softly. “Tell me if he’s a threat.”

Cody lets his attention fall briefly over the individual in question. They can’t all be focused on the one person at the expense of everyone else, but he’s curious.

The target Cal has chosen for his lesson is, outwardly, unremarkable. The things Obi-Wan has already clocked about him - the weapon, the training - are obvious to an experienced eye. Cody looks closer. The Bothan is tired. His fur, which is always a good indicator of a Bothan’s emotional state, hangs limply, and there’s a downturn to his ears that belay his exhaustion.

“No,” Obi-Wan says softly. “I don’t think he is. He keeps reaching up to touch a talisman around his neck. It’s handmade, maybe by a family member? Someone that’s on his mind. I think he just wants to go home.”

Cal squeezes his shoulder. “Good. Very good. Remember to look for more than just the obvious.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan agrees quickly.

“What about that guy?” Cody cuts in, directing both of them to a hall human who has joined the line several places behind them.

“He... doesn’t look very happy,” Obi-Wan surmises dryly.

“He’s a bounty hunter,” Cal snorts. “They’re never happy.”

“What’s he doing here?” Obi-Wan raises a good question. Bounty hunters don’t typically use public transport unless they’re abject failures or on a job.

Hopes that this one falls into the former category dim when the man catches their attention and flashes them a wicked grin. He’s filled his teeth down to sharp points, something both impractical and far too dramatic for Cody’s taste, but it does add to the overall menace of his demeanor.

“You know I said not to judge someone based on the way they look?” Cal says to Obi-Wan, gently propelling the boy forward as the line finally starts to move again. “Nine times out of ten, people who want to hurt you will go to extreme lengths to disguise the fact.”

“And the tenth time?” The pointed dryness of Obi-Wan’s makes it clear he knows exactly what Cal’s answer is going to be.

“The tenth time they look like that.”

“Beep beep?” BD-1 asks.

“No, Cody’s not going to punch him in the face,” Cal snorts.

“I mean... I can?” Cody offers.

“He might be a nice bounty hunter?” Obi-Wan offers skeptically. “Maybe he’s only looking at us like that because we’re looking at him like he’s...”

“A walking cliche?” Cal offers.

“Guilty,” Obi-Wan finishes.

Cal and Cody share a pained look.

“Sure kid,” Cody says with a bracing nod of his head. “Maybe let’s not test the theory?”

“Identification and proof of travel?” The young woman waiting at the head of the boarding line is harried beyond belief, smudges of makeup smeared under her eyes. Cal and Obi-Wan look stricken, their bleeding Jedi hearts probably twisted with guilt for not coming to her rescue in the face of the two irate passengers ahead of them.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Cal asks her as he hands over their documents. Obi-Wan hands her a clean handkerchief and she melts in the face of their simple kindness.

“Oh! Oh yes, thank you. I’m so sorry for the delay in your boarding.” She checks them into her system and flashes them a shaky smile, all but glowing when Obi-Wan returns it with one of his own. “Welcome aboard Galaxy Eighty-Six. Here are your room assignments; we hope you have a pleasant journey with us.

Finally boarding the ship, they make their way to third class. Jedi don’t travel in style. They barely travel in comfort. A bunk is about the best they can expect. So long as they get to stay together, Cody doesn't care if he has to sleep on the floor.

“I’m sorry, sirs,” a small droid says politely. “You are in the wrong section. Please allow me to lead you to your suites.”

Suites?

Cal hands Cody their documents when requested, almost as curious as Obi-Wan.

Executive Suite, First Class.

“Huh.”

Maybe he _won’t_ have to sleep on the floor.

“Come on, _ad’ika_ ,” Cody nudges Obi-Wan forward as they follow after the droid. “Let’s see you put those fancy manners of yours into practice.”


	2. Chapter 2

There’s something to be said for First Class accommodation. The suite is almost too big, the furnishings too clean and new and shiny. Cody’s afraid of breaking the delicate curves of the entertainment system, and the bedding is too soft for anyone to comfortably sleep on. He’s deeply, deeply out of place in this glossy environment, but - and it’s a considerable but - the sheer number of couch cushions, throw pillows and blankets mean he can set himself up a good little crash pad in the middle of the room.

He’s only been levitated by a meditating Jedi the once. It’s unlikely seppies are going to interrupt time and equally unlikely he’s going to get dropped on his head, but it pays to be prepared.

Obi-Wan has shed his thick brown cloak and is happily using the back of one of the dining chairs as a base for his one-armed handstand. It’s a position Cody’s seen the Jedi adopt in the rare moments he had the time, energy or space to indulge in a deep meditation and there’s something comforting in seeing the teenager relax into his training. He’s upside down, one arm held neatly behind his back, his opposite foot tucked against his knee and his short padawan braid hanging down by his ear. He’s _been_ upside down for nearly an hour. The other five chairs, the dining table, the couch, and Cody, have all been hovering mid-air for almost as long.

It’s disconcerting, but since Obi-Wan is also levitating the various parts of the weapons Cody is disassembling and cleaning, it’s not the worst way they could be spending their time.

The Jedi High Council has refused to authorize the release of any weapons to Cody, so naturally, he’s gone and sourced his own. Which is likely what they were hoping for, the meddling shabs. If they think for a second that he’s playing bodyguard/chaperone to two young Jedi _unarmed_ , they can all go jump in a Sarlacc pit. He’s honestly lost count of the times he’s ‘quietly’ removed a threat from Obi-Wan’s vicinity over the years. Gregor would know. Gregor thought it was hilarious. Gregor didn’t have to endure the General’s disappointed frown when he got caught.

That frown is going to look a whole lot worse on Obi-Wan’s young face.

“What the fark...?”

Obi-Wan is well under, lost in that happy magical Jedi world of the Force, or whatever it actually is that he does when he meditates, so Cal’s softly uttered curse sails right by him. Cody, who has just finished reassembling his blaster, fires a curious grunt back in response.

While Obi-Wan has been meditating and Cody playing with his newly liberated toys, BD-1 has been enjoying an oil soak - complete with truly obscene bleeps - and Cal has been pouring over a data file loaded with Obi-Wan’s test scores, class rankings and previous mission reports. From Cody’s understanding, the few months the boy was Jinn’s student were well saturated with missions, and, from the increasingly colorful curses Cal has been uttering, likely full of events that will drive Cody to drink if he reads the reports himself.

“You alright, Boss?”

Something ingrained in Cody’s biology makes it hard to refer to the young Jedi by his first name now that they are officially working together. ‘Sir’ makes Cal twitch, and the one time Cody slipped and called him ‘Commander’ was met with a full-body flinch and a soft, hastily swallowed sob. He’d literally rather shoot himself in the face than bring that flash of barely healed trauma back to Cal’s eyes.

Cal sets down the data file and stretches out his arms and shoulders. “Aside from thinking that maybe I should be _his padawan_ and not the other way around?”

“Overachiever, huh?”

“He’s way ahead of where I was at his age,” Cal nods. “You know I told him that I thought I wouldn’t get picked by a Master?” Cody nods. “I’m pretty sure that if the Council hadn’t assigned me to Master Tapal, if we hadn't been at war, I would’ve slipped through the cracks and ended up in the AgriCorps.”

Cody remembers sitting with Rex while Anakin tried to explain the changes to the padawan system. With the war ended the old tradition of a Master choosing their apprentice, the Council taking over to ensure the maximum number of Initiates received training. Cal would’ve been one of those assignments. “You grew up in very different circumstances,” Cody assures him. “Sometimes peace leads to complacency.” They sent Obi-Wan to the AgriCorps, which says everything.

“I’m trying to see how this,” he waves a hand at the pad, “lands an Initiate on a shuttle to the Agricorps. I didn’t even take half the classes he’s the top of.”

Cody leaves his weapons to the careful cradle of Obi-Wan’s focus and holds out his hand. He can’t move to Cal for the data file, but he can catch it easy enough when its thrown to him.

As Marshal Commander, Cody had access to his General’s personnel file back during the war, but it hadn’t included any of the information listed for him now. He feels the same lack of unease at reading someone’s private information as he did then: he can’t do his job right if he doesn’t know what he’s dealing with.

Various classes on Law and Languages make up the bulk of Obi-Wan’s grades. There’s the standard classes in the sciences, history and political strategy alongside engineering and flight training, but his focus on Galactic Law puts a lot of his military strategies into sharper light. One of the General’s more finely tuned skills had been his almost encyclopedic legal knowledge. For all that he was considered ‘by the book’ in comparison to his more maverick student, most of the time it simply came down to the fact that Obi-Wan knew the law so well that he could navigate around it with breathtaking ease. The Negotiator knew exactly how far he could push and pull at various legalities, never backing himself into a corner or promising something he couldn’t deliver on.

Cody flags that one for encouragement. It’s a dry topic, but one that will be almost as invaluable as his lightsaber skills.

Which...

“Okay, you’re going to have to break this down for me,” Cody says. “Lightsaber forms?”

Cal looks thoughtful for a second, then nods. “Obi-Wan?”

Cody wobbles ever so slightly as Obi-Wan opens his eyes and returns his focus to the present. “Yes, Master?”

“Wanna put Cody down for a sec?”

Obi-Wan abruptly tumbles off his precarious perch and drops the furniture - and Cody - with a thud.

And that’s why he put the cushions down.

Grimacing and rubbing his shoulder, Obi-Wan turns an almost luminous shade of pink by the time he gets back onto his feet. “I’m so sorry, Cody,” he says, practically vibrating with embarrassment.

“No harm done,” Cody shrugs.

“Still,” Obi-Wan starts to rearrange the things he’s moved “it was unforgivably rude of me.”

Which must be some Jedi thing. “Remind me to tell you about the time my brother accidentally pushed me off a cliff right in the middle of a parade march,” he jokes, unable to fight a fond smile as he remembers how Boil had tried to hide behind Waxer while Cody threatened to feed him to the local wildlife. “Little thing like that’s nothing.”

He gets a small, shy little smile in return before the boy dutifully turns his attention to his Master.

“We’re looking over your training history,” Cal explains, “so I can figure out how best to help you.”

Obi-Wan bows his head. “I will do my best not to displease you, Master,” he says humbly.

Cal chuckles. “Maybe do your best not to wipe the floor with me. Your instructors are all pretty much singing your praises.”

That seems to surprise Obi-Wan. “They are?”

Cal takes the data file back from Cody and reads: “‘ _Obi-Wan shows proficiency in Form IV that is well above his agemates. My suggestion is that he receives training with the senior padawan class before progressing to more advanced study in Jar’Kai._ ’” Cal sets the pad down on the table. “Wanna break that down for Cody?”

Obi-Wan is momentarily stunned, but quickly bows his head and turns to face Cody. “Form IV, or Ataru, is one of five forms of lightsaber techniques taught to senior Initiates and padawans,” he says.

“Which is the blocky one?” Cody asks, thinking of Obi-Wan’s unparalleled mastery when it came to facing down projectile attacks.

“Form III, maybe? Soresu?”

“Not your favorite,” Cal smirks, casting a glance over the file again.

Obi-Wan blushes. “Master Qui-Gon felt I should focus more on Ataru,” he says quietly, before quickly bowing deeper. “But of course, I will apply myself to whatever form you think best, Master.”

“I used to think Soresu was boring when I was younger,” Cal admits, smiling. Like he’s not barely out of the creche himself. “Less flashy; defensive, not offensive.” His lip twists in a sardonic little smile. “Then a bunch of people tried to shoot me and I developed a whole new appreciation for it.”

“Master?”

“Look, I’m gonna be the first to admit that we’re an... unconventional pairing. And I don’t want you to think that my protest back in the Temple was because I think you’re not a brilliant student, because I do. The concerns I have are about _my_ suitability, not yours.” He takes a step closer and squeezes Obi-Wan’s shoulder, patiently waiting until the boy lifts his chin and meets his gaze. “But there is one thing I’m not terrible at,” he says, slowly starting to grin, “and that’s not dying. So, in lieu of more... traditional methods, I’m gonna teach you that. Your instructors think you’re ready for advanced lessons? Then that’s what we’re gonna do.” He tips Obi-Wan’s chin up until they’re both looking at the air vent above them.

“Master?”

“I want you to sneak into the galley,” Cal instructs, “and fetch Commander Cody a cookie.”

Cody’s not sure who manages to look more bewildered.

“A cookie, Master?”

“Hmm. Chocolate or Flaxmeal, Cody?”

Cody’s human, not a droid, but there’s a very clear ‘ _error_ ’ message flashing across his vision. “Boss?”

He’s never had a cookie in his life and he’s not about to start now, thank you.

“Both it is,” Cal says cheerfully. “Better get a move on, kid. I’m giving you a sixty-second head start, then I’m coming after you.”

Cody can slowly start to see the enthusiasm creep into Obi-Wan’s expression. The boy narrows his eyes, assessing the problem; a look so familiar Cody aches.

“What if you catch me?” Obi-Wan asks.

“You have to do four hours of Form III katas before bed,” Cal smirks at the face he pulls.

“If I don’t get caught?”

“Four hours of katas,” Cal repeats, laughing when Obi-Wan groans, “but I’ll teach you a little Jar’kai after.”

That seems to be enough to get Obi-Wan onboard.

Cody, somehow resigned by fate to always be the voice of reason, asks, “And what if ship’s security catch you?”

“Then we’ll be walking the rest of the way! Now go! BD, start the countdown!”

"Beep beep!"

Obi-Wan leaps into the air, unfastening the hatch with a flick of his wrist and scurrying into the vent.

“You want me to wait for him in the galley, don’t you?” Cody asks Cal, who nods.

“Grab him the second he comes out.”

Poor kid, his Master's really not going to play fair with him.

“And how do you expect _me_ to get into the galley in the first place?” Cody’s not exactly the one for subtlety and subterfuge.

“You could try smiling?” Cal offers.

“I’d rather frip a rankor,” Cody grumbles.

Karking Jedi.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments! 
> 
> I'm on tumblr as beamirang if anyone wants to cry about clones, Obi-Wan and Cal with me there!

They settle quickly into a routine. Mornings are met early, something both the Jedi and Cody are accustomed to. On the second day, Cody works up the courage to ask if he can sit with them while they meditate. Quiet moments spent in his General’s company are memories he clings to desperately now they have returned, but the knowledge of how easily they were lost spurs him to make new ones.

Obi-Wan agrees politely, though clearly failing to see what benefit Cody might find in meditation when he’s not Force Sensitive. Cal meets the request with a silent nod and a sympathetic expression. Cody wonders if any of his clones ever joined him and his Master for meditation and quickly decides he doesn’t have the stomach to ask.

So an hour is spent with Cal and Obi-Wan seeking serenity and focus through the Force, and with Cody quietly working through the shabstorm of chaos in his head. There’s no expectation in that hour, and no trouble for Obi-Wan to stumble into. He’s seen Jedi be deep in a trance-like state snap into action in a microsecond when faced with sudden danger, so for once, he feels safe letting his guard down. Nothing and no one can hurt them and Cody can relax.

After meditation comes quick ablutions. Cody can cross off the shit-shower-shave in less than fifteen minutes and Cal’s the same. Obi-Wan takes a little longer, but then he’s thirteen.

They venture down to the galley for breakfast instead of taking it in their suite. Cal insists under the guise of honing Obi-Wan’s observational skills, but Cody’s caught him fighting back a smile when spotting various members of the ship’s security milling around.

They’re three days into a seven-day voyage. The direct travel time from Coruscant to their destination is only four days, but the commercial charter makes multiple stops for travelers. They’re due to make their final pickup before heading into deep space.

Their mission isn’t time-critical, so the three of them have been making good use of the extended journey. Unconventional, perhaps, but non-the-less productive.

Today will be Day Three of what BD-1 has dubbed ‘Operation Cookie’. So far both of Obi-Wan’s attempts have been met with failure. He failed the first day because Cody knows how his General’s mind works better than his own and knew that he’d double back to use the vent before the galley to exit instead of the easier option of using the next one. No sooner had he dropped soundlessly into the service corridor had Cody grabbed him and dragged him into a storage closet. He wasn’t willing to actually hurt the boy any more than Obi-Wan was willing to hurt him and escape, which left them with a scowling, red-faced teenager being dumped unceremoniously at Cal’s feet.

Day Two’s attempt ended with Cal using the force to drag a betrayed Obi-Wan back through the air vent by his ankles.

For Day Three, Cody gets the impression that the boy is... unhappy with them. He’s accepted their feedback after each failed attempt and they’ve talked through all of their various thought processes. Obi-Wan’s been an exemplary student and taken his assigned punishment without complaint, though he fails to show much enthusiasm for his katas.

The rest of their days have been split between preparation for their coming mission and Obi-Wan’s education. Cody’s contribution has been to start him learning Mando’a. Cal’s has been to break down the intricacies of various galactic crime syndicates. if they encounter any hardcore criminals, Obi-Wan can now greet them appropriately for their rank, and tell them to go frick a gundark.

Then there’s more meditation, and meals shared getting to know one another as best they can when two of them have traveled from the future and know exactly how the third is brutally murdered.

That’s the part Cody is struggling with. He’s constantly stuck between trying to remember that Obi-Wan is _not_ the Obi-Wan he knows and has a history with, and with feeling utterly undeserving of knowing this painfully endearing, entirely innocent child. He often doesn’t know what to say to the boy. His only interaction with children has been with padawans during the war - something that dictated many of their conversations. There’s no war and no Sith, so he can’t tease Obi-Wan as a friend or gently chide him as an officer. The dynamic of power is both more entrenched than ever and completely flipped.

There’s nothing Cody won’t do for him, but now he’s the one with the authority.

It’s terrifying.

And it’s a problem Cal seems to be struggling with as well.

On the surface, the new Master is doing admirably. He’s keeping his student engaged and motivated, is considerate of his need for food and sleep and encouragement, and is generally doing all the things he’s expected to be doing.

But Cody has commanded men before and while he’s never been a Master in the Jedi way, he’s experienced some of the same responsibilities.

Cal is trying to be the perfect Master.

Obi-Wan is trying to be the perfect student.

And there's the problem.

From the outside, Cody can see it. Cal is racing forward, free with his ideas and praise, generous with his encouragement and warm with his demeanor. Whether he’s trying to emulate the real Jaro Tapal or just an idealized version of him that lives crystallized within a child’s trauma, Cody doesn’t know.

All he does know is that the more encouraging Cal is, the less Obi-Wan believes it.

Whereas two failed attempts at a mission would prompt a wry smile and a ‘ _third time’s a charm_ ’ from the General, Obi-Wan is absorbing his failure to complete the task at hand. He has no idea how to categorize the severity of a situation, treating a failure to procure cookies that Cody really doesn’t even want the same as he might respond to losing a life-saving antidote.

He sits so earnestly and works through their brainstorming sessions not with the maturity of a student eager to learn from his mistakes, but with a degree of self-flagellation that’s frightening to witness.

Cal, with no frame of reference of his own, is missing it.

“Cody?”

Obi-Wan steps out of the fresher, fastening the tie around his neat padawan braid. “Yeah, kid?”

“Has Master Kestis left already?” It’s not escaped Cody’s notice that Jinn is still ‘Master Qui-Jon’, while Cal is given the same respect - and emotional distance - as the likes of Windu.

“He’ll meet us down there,” Cody says. He flashes a tentative smile and nudges the boy with his shoulder. “Between you and me, I think he might be setting up a surprise for you in the air vent.” He means it teasingly, but Obi-Wan merely nods with a grimness you’d expect at a rite of mourning.

“Have you-” he glances around nervously before looking up at Cody through a thick fringe of lashes. “Have you heard anything from the Temple?”

“Should I have?”

“No,” Obi-Wan looks away. “No. I just wondered... if there had been an update on Master Qu- on the mission to Dathomir.”

Someone needs to tell Cody what age Obi-Wan is when he learns to keep his emotions behind a mask of polite interest; he can’t handle those big, hopeful eyes and the turmoil swimming within them.

“They probably arrived this morning,” Cody says, running the data in his head. “Master Jinn will be fine, don’t you worry.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan says softly. “I can feel him still. I just...”

His General maintained a close link with Anakin, even after the two were no longer master and apprentice, so isn’t sure if that’s unusual or not.

“It must be tough,” Cody says as they leave the suite and make their way towards the galley, “having two bonds in your head.”

“Not really,” Obi-Wan says. “Master Qui-Gon did his best to minimize our bond even before Melida/Daan, so it’s more just a presence than anything solid. Master Kestis and I don’t have a bond yet.”

“Should you?” Cody has no idea how they even work, but he imagines something akin to the way some of the vod connected to each other, only more intense and with magic. Sometimes he wonders if Jedi can see Force bonds, and what they might look like.

Obi-Wan shrugs. “Sometimes they’re forged in an instant. When two people meet and just click, the Force joining them together from the start. Others grow over time.”

“How was it with Jinn?” he asks, then wonders if that’s a rude question.

“It was instant,” Obi-Wan says wistfully. “Or on my side it was. I know he didn’t want me, or the bond, so it makes sense it’s not as strong on his side. He’s a great Jedi. Not... not that Master Kestis isn’t. Great, I mean, I just-”

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Cody suggests before Obi-Wan can spiral into a frantic attempt to show respect to both his Masters. “Maybe it’s one of those things you two can meditate on?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head abruptly. “We don’t meditate _together_ ,” he says. “Not like that anyway. He has really strong shields and he doesn’t want me behind them. It’s okay.”

“I never-”

He’s not thought about it. Not even for a second. Obi-Wan seems to have trusted Cal and Cere from the start, and Cody not long after. He’s expressed curiosity, but no mistrust, and Cody’s taken that on face value because _he_ doesn’t experience the world the way a Jedi does.

Obi-Wan is kriffing _psychic_ and so is his new Master.

The time-traveling and hopefully genocide averting new Master.

The impossibility of their situation hits Cody hard.

Obi-Wan and Cal can never form a proper Force Bond, not without Cal having to carefully lock things away. If he does that, chances are Obi-Wan will know something is being kept from him. He might even be able to sense what. The idea of him now, still so young, knowing the horror that awaits him, sickens Cody to his core.

And Obi-Wan - who saw Jinn’s reluctance to accept their bond as a sign of rejection and not a result of Jinn’s experience with his last apprentice - is going to assume the fault is his own.

He is, after all, the common denominator:

Unwanted in the Temple; rejected and then abandoned by Jinn; held at a distance and lied to by Cal.

Cody needs to do something about this, and he needs to do something soon.

They’re supposed to be _helping_ Obi-Wan, not widening the cracks in his already fragile self-esteem.

And shab, at this rate they’re only going to make things worse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to start throwing some spanners in the works, right?
> 
> Cody finally gets to punch someone and everything goes to hell. The two things may or may not be related.

In the galley, Cody gets his first opportunity to break someone’s face.

Taking a seat at one of the long, communal tables open to all travelers regardless of class, he flanks Obi-Wan’s left, a large bowl of yesshir milk-soaked warm grains and oats set down on the table before him. He’s indulged a little with a drizzle of honey and a few crushed nuts, plus a pinch of spices that used to be a regular addition at the Temple. During the war, food never had a higher purpose beyond providing fuel and nutrients. Anakin had been the one to turn Rex and the 501st to more adventurous meals, almost causing a ship-wide mutiny over pancakes, of all things. The 212th, never about to let logistics stand in the way of a little healthy rivalry, had found no help from their General, who barely seemed to remember to feed himself, let alone worry about flavor.

It’s heartening to see that Obi-Wan’s teenage appetite is perfectly healthy, despite his clear moroseness. Cody’ll take quiet but eating over the ‘ _yes, yes, in a moment, Commander_ ,’ banthashite he used to get shoveled.

Cal is happily digging into his own mountain of freshly cut fruit on Obi-Wan’s other side. They’re quietly enjoying their food, taking in the mellow morning conversations surrounding them and generally minding their own business when two figures take a seat on the bench opposite them, one quickly followed by the other.

Cody clocks them - clocks the bounty hunter from the line when they were boarding - and feels his lip curl in annoyance.

It becomes a full-on snarl when the figure next to the sharp-toothed, smiling mercenary reaches out to grab Obi-Wan’s wrist.

Two Jedi have nothing on Cody when it comes to inflicting violence on those who threaten his General. Blood splurts across the man’s face as his nose makes an abrupt introduction to the table, Cody’s fist tight in his short hair.

Cal is on his feet only a split second later, lightsaber ignited. The entire galley falls silent at the sight of it.

“Ow!” A hand is pressed against the blood gushing from a broken nose, unhappy sounds of pain muffled as the bounty hunter beside him roars with laughter.

“Touch him again,” Cody says slowly, careful to enunciate each word, “and you lose your head.”

“I like him,” the bounty hunter says, flashing all of his teeth. “I _like_ you.”

Cody, who can usually summon at least a little subtlety, snarls, “ _Copaani mirshmure'cye?”_

He startles at the soft, tentative touch of Obi-Wan’s fingers to his wrist. “ _Jate_ ,” he says tentatively. There’s no conjugation, but Cody understands what he’s trying to say. “ _I’m good.”_ It's a lot more gentle than Cody remembers. A lot more uncertain. He's no stranger to violence at this point in his life, but has likely never been the focus of anyone's protective rage. He better get used to it. 

“Listen to your master, Mandalorian,” bloody nose spits, his eyes streaming.

Cody punches him this time. Not because he feels any kind of resentment or embarrassment at the mockery, but because no self-respecting vod would dream of letting the insult go unanswered.

Cal powers down his saber and clips it to his belt before taking a seat. “Who are you and what do you want?” he asks, his voice unrecognizably cold and clipped.

Speaking for the both of them, his friend whimpering and drooling bloodily onto the table, the bounty hunter gives them a dramatic little bow of his head. “Forgive me, friends.” His accent is hard to place. It’s sharp, polished, but not in the way Obi-Wan’s is. Core world, most likely, just not Coruscant. He’s a large man, sleek, with sharp, powerful features and a predatory look that makes Cody want to shove him out of an airlock. “My name is Inyak Mohandai. My companion-” he gestures at the moaning mess of a man, “is Jeran Aphax. I’m sorry if he frightened you, young one.” He flashes Obi-Wan more of those teeth, his genial greeting not reaching his pale eyes.

Obi-Wan, being as predictable as all thirteen-year-old boys tend to be, firmly says, “He didn’t frighten me.”

“Of course not,” Inyak smiles. “Still, I understand your father’s protectiveness. You can rest assured we will keep our hands to ourselves in the future.”

Cody and Obi-Wan look nothing alike. He’s fishing for information. Refusing to either confirm or deny, Cody continues to glare. “See that you do.” The general populous of this time have no reference by which to judge his face. Here, he is not a clone, not a genetically engineered weapon, and not a member of any official military structure. His only choice of intimidation is his physical presence, the thick scar on his face and a scowl that can strip the paint off a speeder. He combines all three.

“Is, um, everything alright here?” One of the ship’s crew, alerted either by another passenger or by the large amount of blood still pouring from Jeran’s nose, appears at the table, carefully wringing his six hands. This would be where a subtle wave of the General’s hand and a softly uttered suggestion of ignorance would be useful.

Obi-Wan, of course, says nothing. Neither does Cal, who merely raises a challenging eyebrow at Inyak. Cody digs his scowl deeper into his skin.

“Everything is wonderful,” Inyak responds for them all, a genial smile twisting his face into something so horrific that no one would dare question him. “My companion slipped and hit his head, his own fault.” Jeran splutters indignantly. “Say,” Inyak clamps a hand on his shoulder - a friendly gesture until you clock how tight his grip is, “would you be kind enough to see him to the ship’s medic?”

“I don’t-” the grip on Jeran’s shoulder tightens, “a-ah, yes, yes. A medic. Thank you.”

He’s unsteady on his feet as he rises, all but slinking away from Inyak to follow the crew member from the room. When he’s vanished from sight, Unyak shakes his head with a dramatic sigh, and steals a berry from Cal’s plate. “Are you eating that?” He pops it in his mouth before getting a response.

“Tell me what you want,” Cal says coldly, “or you’ll end up needing to see the same Medic as your friend.”

“Not my friend,” Inyak shrugs. “Never met him before now.”

“You knew his name,” Obi-Wan says. Cody doesn’t like the idea of the boy talking to Inyak, but he knows his protectiveness won’t be welcome if he embarrasses him.

“By reputation,” Inyak agrees. “Not that it counts for much.” He snatches another berry, chewing it slowly. “You’re not very friendly for Jedi.”

There’s no point denying it after igniting a lightsaber in the middle of the meal. Jedi aren’t hunted the way Cal and Cody remember them being, but the weight of Inyak’s knowledge makes them both uncomfortable.

“And you’re extremely chatty for a bounty hunter,” Cal replies.

“It’s part of my charm,” Inyak smiles. “You should be more appreciative.”

“Of what? You’ve still not told us what you want.”

Inyak goes for another berry, then seems to think better of it. “To business, then,” he says, focusing his attention on Obi-Wan. “I wish to hire the boy.”

Obi-Wan - and Cal - both place restraining hands on Cody’s arms. They can’t stop him from growling, “If you _look_ at him, I will-”

“Kill me?” The attempt at innocence falls flat on the canvas of Inyak’s sinister face. “I’d save your energy, friend. I’ve no desire to harm a hair on that innocent baby Jedi head.”

Obi-Wan does a good job of imitating Cody’s scowl.

“I think we’ve heard enough,” Cal rises, pulling Obi-Wan with him.

“ _Can I kill him now, Boss_?” Cody asks Cal, switching to Huttese, knowing he’ll understand.

“ _You can try_ ,” Inyak responds in kind. “But I think you’ll change your mind.”

“I doubt it,” Cal snaps. He has a hand tight on Obi-Wan’s elbow and for a second he looks so furious, so enraged that anyone would target Obi-Wan than Cody swears he’s looking at Anakin.

“There’s a bounty on your little Jedi’s head,” Inyak drops his attempt at congeniality, sharp, calculating coldness replacing the easy smile. “Five million credits dead. Ten million alive.”

As soon as he utters the words, Cody realizes how very stupid he and Cal have been.

The room around them is utterly silent. Still. Waiting. The air alight with the anticipation of blood. Dozens of eyes locked on one target.

The galley is not host to groups of milling civilians and one unfolding drama between two Jedi, Cody, and a bounty hunter.

Inyak isn ’t the danger here; he’s the _distraction_. And they’ve kriffing walked into a trap with their eyes wide open.

Multiple hands reach for their weapons, a standoff on the brink of explosion.

Inyak starts to laugh, and the first shot is fired.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dials the angst up to 11*

There’s no waiting, no second-guessing. They’re under fire, which means all bets are off.

Cody has a blaster in hand and is hurling a vibroshiv into the throat of the closest hostile before his mind even catches up with his body. The two Jedi he is with are equally on the ball. Obi-Wan might be young, but he’s fresh out of a warzone with all the hypervigilance and reflexes that come with it, and Cal...

Cal has already dismembered four hostiles.

Cody likes Cal. He likes him a lot.

Obi-Wan flips the long table with a burst of Force energy, giving Cody something from which he can take cover while the two Jedi vault into action.

Obi-Wan focuses more on blaster deflection, something he seems to have always had a natural affinity for. It gives Cody extra cover to work with and between the two of them, they put a dent in a good number of their attackers.

Inyak is still sitting in the middle of the carnage, unperturbed by the blaster fire all around them. Until he draws a weapon, Cody is content to keep him in the corner of his eye, a threat clocked, if not engaged.

There’s a strangled gurgle from one of the bounty-hunters as he’s dragged through the air and into Cal’s grip, unable to defend himself from the brutal upper thrust of a whirling, duel bladed lightsaber. Cal’s clearly on crowd-control, leaving a pile of moaning, wailing, brutally cut down foes in his wake.

The sheer level of violence he unleashes seems to unsettle Obi-Wan. Cody can’t imagine Jinn being so ruthless in a fight and with the possible exception of Xanatos, it’s unlikely he’ll have ever seen a lightsaber wielded in such a vicious way.

Give it time and he’ll be slicing off limbs left and right, but for now, Cody can only watch helplessly as a fissure of wariness opens between the boy and his new Master.

Another issue to be addressed when they aren’t being shot out.

They make quick work of the remaining bounty-hunters, leaving only wrecked furniture and whimpering bodies in their wake as they edge towards the doors.

Then Obi-Wan goes down.

He’s not hit, not that Cody can see, but his lightsaber deactivates and slips from his fingers as his legs fold beneath him. Both hands come up to clutch at his heads as a scream tears itself from his throat.

“So that _is_ a thing!” Inyak says in wonder. “Huh. Maybe he's not a complete disappointment after all.”

Cody ignores him. There are only a handful of hostiles remaining. He leaves them to Cal, who has turned the dial on violence right up to bloodbath at the sound of his Padawan in pain.

Vaulting across the overturned table, Cody throws tenderness out the window. He clips the abandoned lightsaber to his belt and hauls the screaming, writhing teen roughly over his shoulder. Immediately, Obi-Wan knees him in the stomach.

“Boss! We gotta go!”

Cal nods sharply before separating his duel bladed lightsaber in two, spinning the blades around and thrusting them back into the two remaining hostiles. Cody's impressed; Anakin and Rex would karking _love_ him.

“That’ll be reinforcements,” Inyak announces merrily, jerking his head towards the far side of the galley. Cody can hear the pounding of feet beyond the doors. They need to retreat.

Cal makes a violent move towards Inyak, lightsaber raised. Obi-Wan’s scream freezes him in place. “ _Master_!”

With a string of curses even Cody finds a little excessive, the young Jedi turns from his unarmed target and sprints towards Cody’s position.

“You got him?”

Cody’s carried fully armored _vode_ through jungles, tundra, and deserts, sometimes for days on end. A skinny teenager is almost negligible, even if he is leaving bruises as he struggles in Cody's grip. “He’s not hit,” he reports. He doesn’t know _what_ the kriffing problem is, but it’s not that.

“ _Beeep! Beep bop beep zeep beep!_ ” BD-1 bounces down the corridor towards them, scomp link extended and sparking. Cody can just make out the shape of a body on the floor behind him. How many karking bounty hunters are even on this kriffing ship?

“BD! You okay?” The little droid scales Cal like a tree, clinging to his back and wailing out a string of furious and frightened binary. “No, no I’m okay, buddy, but we gotta help Obi-Wan!”

The boy, on cue, lets out a trembling whimper of pain. It sinks a hook under Cody’s ribs and tugs violently.

“ _Boop bop_!”

“This way!”

Cody doesn’t need telling twice. They’re trapped on a ship in the middle of deep space and everyone is trying to kill them. The deja vu is enough to leave him feeling a little nostalgic. Any second now he’s going to hear Rex’s cocky voice on the radio and a Jedi General will make a dramatic entrance from a ceiling vent.

“Master...”

A small door slides open after a little nudge from BD-1, allowing them to slide unnoticed into the service corridors.

Either the sheer number of passengers who are secretly mercenaries in disguise have overtaken the ship’s crew and civilian passengers, or every single kerfing shab on this tincan is in on the game. It doesn’t really matter: they can’t risk being seen on the security cameras, nor can they trust anyone they encounter.

“Here,” Cal says, beckoning them into a room at the end of the corridor. It’s clearly used for storage, offering plenty of places to hide and take cover, as well as being out of the way. It’s not ideal, but it’ll do. “BD, jam the door,” Cal instructs.

“ _Bop_.”

“Over here.” A stack of crates is hardly the place Cody wants to set his precious cargo down, but it’ll have to do. Obi-Wan flops bonelessly over the crate, his eyes rolling back until only a very faint sliver of blue is visible.

“What’s wrong with him?”

There’ve been numerous times when he’s quietly envied the Jedi some of their skills - mostly after watching his General crush the legs of an AT-AT just by clenching his fist - but never more so than now. Cal rests a gentle hand over Obi-Wan’s forehead and closes his eyes.

Almost instantly, he’s stumbling back and cursing furiously.

“Something’s attacking him,” he says grimly.

“I can see that! What?” He ignores the heated look Cal shoots his way. The kid has nothing on General Skywalker when he lost his cool. “Nothing even touched him! He just-”

“It’s psychic.” Cal carefully loosens the robs that are bunching around Obi-Wan’s throat. He slides one hand behind the boy’s neck, ready to support his head, and presses the other back to his brow. “And it’s powerful.”

It seems ironic - or maybe just typical - that he and Obi-Wan were only just talking about this subject a few short hours ago. “So help him.”

“It’s not that easy,” Cal grits his teeth, his eyes closed. “I can’t help him fight off the attack, and he’s too far under to see me as anything but a threat.”

“ _Beep bop_ ,” BD’s quiet beep draw’s Cody’s attention, but not Cal’s. Outside, footsteps hammer down the metal corridor. Obi-Wan’s next cry of pain is hastily smothered by Cody’s hand.

“ _Locked_ ,” a muffled voice says from beyond the door. “ _Move on, they can’t be far.”_

Cody takes a step back and clamps his hands behind his back, trying to find some stability in parade rest. He has no idea how to be helpful here. He has no _way_ to be helpful. Even Cal-

“Form a bond with him,” Cody demands. “Then he’ll know you’re trying to help him.”

“Even if I could,” Cal grits, sweat pouring down his face, “this isn’t the time!”

It seems like exactly the kriffing time to Cody.

“You have to!” There’s no color in the boy’s face. His chest heaves and his breathing slows to something shallow and pained. He was fine! And now he’s...

He’s _not_ dying.

“I can’t!” Cal snarls. He’s bent almost double now, his forehead parallel to Obi-Wan’s. “ _Come on, kid, let me in...”_

Obi-Wan whimpers, a thin line of blood trailing from his nose.

Cody wants to pace. He takes one of the boy’s small hands in his own instead.

Is this the will of his General’s beloved Force? Is this what fate kriffing demands of him? His punishment for failure, for being unable to overcome the flaws in his design that made him believe that maybe, just maybe, he deserves something _more_ than to live and die and breathe at the command of an indifferent master.

Is that why they were sent back? Not to fix things, not to undo the unthinkable, but for Cody to relive his failure on a thousand different stages. To watch his General die. To know he can’t do anything about it. Will he wake up tomorrow in a different time and place with those kind, trusting blue eyes looking down on him, innocently unaware of the danger Cody poses to him.

“Please,” Cody begs. “ _Please_ , you have to help him.”

“I’m trying-”

“Bond with him! He’s so kriffing starved for attention he’ll latch on to you the second you let him in!”

“It’s not that simple!” Cal shouts.

“Because he might see something he’s not supposed to? That’s tomorrow’s problem!” It won’t make a difference what Obi-Wan does or doesn’t know if he’s dead.

“Because I don’t know how!” Cal finally looks up and meets Cody’s eyes. Tears are streaming down his face, all his cool confidence in battle stripped away to leave only a frightened boy behind. “I’ve only ever had one bond and it was ripped out of my head when my Master died. I don’t know _how_ to bond with anyone else!”

That’s why he’s not created a Training Bond with Obi-Wan. Not to keep the boy out, not to protect their secrets. Maybe he’s even as desperate for the connection as Obi-Wan is.

The General would know what to do. He’d have the right words.

But Master Kenobi isn’t here. He’s long dead. All they have is a dying Padawan, a broken Knight, and Cody.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert Han -The Force Doesn't Work That Way - Solo gif*
> 
> It might not work this way, and it totally will cause chaos down the line, but for now, a little comfort to offset the hurt. 
> 
> This one was a pain in the ass to write! I really hope you enjoy it!

The one thing Cody has always been able to do is to keep his head in a crisis. There are moments that have pushed his limits, more so now than ever before, but ultimately he’ll reach a point where fear, panic, and chaos rounds a corner in his head, flips a switch, and turns everything else off.

Obi-Wan is dying. Cal can’t fix it.

Their only option is to find the source of the psychic attack and put an end to it.

The problem with _that_? Inyak is a good place to start, but not the ultimate target. Which means someone fighting their way through an entire ship of angry mercenaries. Cody doesn’t doubt his ability to do so; he’s faced far worse odds over the years. He doesn’t doubt Cal’s capabilities either, though he’s reluctant to send the kid back into a fight when he’s shaking and crying like a shiny after their first kill.

No, the issue is time. While Cal isn’t capable of forging a bond with Obi-Wan, Cody doesn’t doubt that his mere presence _is_ helping. Cody can’t substitute for that, but he’s also sure that Cal can’t keep it up for much longer. He’s barely clinging on to the frayed strands of Obi-Wan’s life. He can’t leave to find their mystery attacker, and Cody isn’t going to get the job done fast enough if he goes himself.

Which leaves... well it leaves a karking mess.

The General always made Bonds look and sound so _easy_ , either with his own students or with the random, rampaging beasts he could soothe without a word.

_‘It’s all a matter of focus, my friend. The Force is all around us, in you as much as it is in me. It’s in the air, in the water, in this rock...’_

The rock.

Rock... rock... _rock_.

Obi-Wan’s meditation stone.

Thirteen. He said Jinn gave it to him for his thirteenth birthday. He must have it now...

Cal continues to sniff, his face red and blotchy as he clings to Obi-Wan’s fading life. “What are you-”

Cody pats the boy down, looking for his pockets and despairing, as ever, at the sheer volume and number of layers Jedi robes seem to require. His General could stash a truly insane amount of things in his pockets and often did, mostly so he could make a little ‘ _aha_ ’ noise and produce whatever item someone expressed a need for. Fives swore blind he’d seen the General actually fish a baby bograt out of his pocket once.

But there - yes - slipped carefully into a pocket hidden in the lining of his sash.

The stone is small and smooth, and very much like its owner: innocuous and intrinsically precious.

With treacherous hands that betray his growing desperation, Cody presses it into Obi-Wan’s palm. “Give me your hand,” he demands of Cal, who obeys without question. Pressing Master and Padawan’s hands together, palm to palm with the stone between them, Cody closes both his hands around theirs and seals the contact.

_‘You know, this little stone saved my life once. Never underestimate the value of something most would declare worthless.’_

In truth, Cody’s not sure what he wants to happen when he places the stone between them. Okay, no, he knows what he _wants_ to happen, he’s just not sure what he _expects_ to happen. He can’t predict the whats or hows and certainly not the whys. He just hopes. Sometimes hope is all you have, Obi-Wan taught him that.

Cal, though, lets out a gasp, his eyelashes fluttering as he rocks forward, still clutching Obi-Wan’s hand.

Cody’s seen that look before on Quinlan Vos. Another Jedi, one with the rare gift of psychometry. He could touch an object and sense the history and emotions connected with it, something as painful as it could be powerful. Echoes, he called them.

Is that what’s happening to Cal?

The vision, or echo, or whatever cycle that’s dragged Cal under, ends as abruptly as it began. His eyes snap open, sharp with renewed purpose.

And then the strangest thing happens.

Cody is very much not psychic. He has no sensitivity to the Force at all. He doesn’t have visions, can’t speak to someone across time and space, can’t touch an object and know who held it last...

But the heartbeat pounding in his head suddenly has a companion.

Two companions.

And Cody’s no longer alone in his head.

_‘Connected, you two are. Know you, he does not.’_

Cody swore his life to Obi-Wan years ago, has pledged to do whatever it takes to undo his past wrongs and honor that vow.

The hand that is not caught between his and Obi-Wan’s suddenly shoots up and grips Cody around the back of his neck. Cal’s eyes are blown wide with color, the backs of his pupils mere pinpricks in a sea of green. “Show me,” he pleads, his voice sounding far away, “show me I can trust you.”

Cody doesn’t know _how_ to show him anything, but he doesn’t care to stop Cal from looking on his own.

This child - both of these children - have or will suffer because of an order that Cody issues. _He’s_ the one who passes Order 66 down the chain of command. _He’s_ the one who could stop all of that death but doesn't. Cal can look, have, take whatever he needs to if there is any hope of balancing that scale.

Cody doesn’t feel it. Not in the sense of knowing that there is someone rifling through his memories. His only awareness exists because Cal asked, and because Cal asked, it doesn’t hurt.

“ _It wasn’t your fault,_ ” Cal’s voice whispers in his head. “ _You were used, and we were all betrayed. It’s_ not _your fault.”_

The words are ones he doesn’t deserve to hear, not from Cal, not from a victim of his failure, and not with the cool weight of Obi-Wan’s hand in his.

But they’re in his head. In his head and clawing their way towards his heart, and he wants so very much to believe them.

Cal’s fingers tighten on the back of his neck as he delivers the final blow to Cody’s resistance. “ _He would never blame you.”_

Something shatters in Cody’s chest and warmth rushes in to fill the gaping wound it reveals. Every part of him feels infused with Light and if this is what it feels to know the Force, Cody can understand his General’s devotion to it.

The heartbeats in his head separate into two distinct beings. There’s the frantic pattern of Cal’s exertion and the slow, lethargic thud of Obi-Wan’s slowly strengthening pulse.

His forehead bumps into Cal’s as they lean over Obi-Wan, the time-honored expression of relief and affection shared between brothers after a long battle. Obi-Wan’s fingers twitch between their own and they wait, breathless, as his eyes slowly blink open.

“Master?” his first call is for Cal, his eyes growing wide and hopeful before he winces and raises his free hand to press against his head. “Ow.”

“ _Vor entye,”_ Cody mutters, speaking the words aloud in the hope that the Force will hear them.

“Did someone try to kill us again?” Obi-Wan asks, grimacing as he takes in their surroundings.

“Take it easy, buddy,” Cal says, pressing a gentle hand against his chest as he starts to try and sit. The little stone in their combined grip drops onto the crate. Obi-Wan reaches for it, his eyes wide,

“Lucky stone,” Cody says gruffly. He doesn’t trust his voice not to break, Cal’s words still ringing in his ears. “It saved your life.” Again. Cody owes Jinn a debt that can’t be repaid.

“Actually,” Cal says, resting a supporting hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, “you can thank Cody for that. He saved both our assess.”

Cody can’t speak around the lump in his throat.

“You’re in my head,” Obi-Wan says wondrously. “I didn’t think non-Force sensitives could do that.”

Kark, what kind of mess is Cody going to make in the mind of a teenager?

“I’m... I’m sorry, I don’t know how-”

“It’s okay.” That wonderous kindness blooms bright in Obi-Wan’s eyes, and with it, something warm wraps around the cold, painful parts of Cody’s soul. “I look after you.”

“We both will,” Cal says seriously. “You’re not alone anymore,” he squeezes Obi-Wan’s shoulder and claps his other hand on Cody’s arm, “none of us are.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be called: Cody has a bad feeling about this.

“You okay, Cody?” Obi-Wan’s voice drifts through the air vent. Cody’s bringing up the rear of the most ridiculous little excursion around the ship, Cal’s boots just visible a few feet in front of him. Either Obi-Wan can sense the unhappiness rolling off Cody in waves, or he’s rightly jumped to the conclusion that anyone Cody’s size isn’t going to enjoy dragging himself on his belly for what feels like miles and miles of ventilation. Obi-Wan has yet to hit a significant growth spurt and Cal is a lanky bastard, so the two of them have no problems navigating the low, narrow space. Both of Cody’s shoulders are pressed against the side of the shaft. It’s not wide enough for him to do much beyond tuck his elbows into his side and wiggle forward without dignity, and it’s not tall enough for him to even attempt to get on his hands and knees.

Cody doesn’t enjoy small spaces. He seems to find himself in them far more frequently than he’d like, but he really, _really_ doesn’t enjoy them.

“Fine, ad’ika,” he grunts, trying not the chin himself in the process.

“Nearly there.” Obi-Wan has crawled all over this krifing ship in the past few days, so Cody is ready to believe him when he says that. It doesn’t stop him sending out a silent prayer of thanks when a light suddenly hits him from below and he can crawl his way out of the ceiling.

His upper body strength is all that saves him from an undignified tumble, and he still makes a thud when he lands on the balls of his feet. Obi-Wan pops up at his elbow, a warm, reassuring smile matched with a look Cody remembers from his early days in the GAR. Cody bumps his shoulder with his arm and chuckles when the boy grins.

You’d not know he’d been on death’s doorstep only thirty minutes earlier. As an adult, Obi-Wan is irritatingly skilled at hiding what he perceives as ‘weaknesses’, but as a child, he’s equally resilient, bouncing back to brightness and mobility with barely a hint of discomfort. Cody’s sure he and Cal will bare the wounds of today’s near-miss far longer than he does and is happy to shoulder that weight.

They find themselves in the small but plushly decorated cabin attached to the main bridge. There’s no sign of the Captain, but beyond the closed door behind Cal is both a highly defensible safehold and means to either raise an alarm or escape the ship.

Silently, they move into place. Cal takes point, only one beam of his lightsaber activated in order to accommodate the narrow door. Obi-Wan waits behind him, his own saber lit. Cody, unhappily but practically, holds, blaster drawn. This will be a close-quarters fight and the Jedi will need all the space they can get.

The hand gestures Cal uses are straight from the war, old habits deeply engrained. Cody knows Cal didn’t escape the carnage of Order 66 unscathed, but he hopes the boy was spared the horrors of combat before that fateful day. He’d’ve been younger even than Ashoka, probably the same age as Obi-Wan is now. Children don’t belong in war, not even capable, skilled children.

But either way, Cal has clearly been trained to operate within a clone unit. He knows where Cody will be, how he will move, and how to command the fight. Time and distance only sharpen Cody’s regret.

But there’s no time to dwell. A flick of Cal’s wrist and the door opens. They move in fast, ready to subdue and seize control of the bridge.

Only to find the officers set out neatly on one side of the room, each one propped against the wall unconscious.

“My friends!” Inyak spins around in the Captain’s chair and spreads his arms wide. “You are not dead! This is good news!”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you in the head,” Cody growls. He keeps his blaster trained on Inyak but surreptitiously checks the bridge doors. Locked. Once Cal finishes sealing the door they just came through then they’ll be safe for the time being. Still mostly trapped. But safe.

“I haven’t laid a finger on any of you,” Inyak looks almost offended, his sharp teeth hidden behind a dramatic frown. “It would be very un-Jedi like to kill an unarmed man, especially one who has done absolutely nothing illegal.”

“Yet,” Obi-Wan says dryly.

“Suspicious little thing, aren’t you?”

“Someone just tried to melt my brain,” the boy points out. Cody can see the seeds of the relentless sass and sarcasm that will one day become as much his trademark as his skills in diplomacy. On a child, it’s rather endearing; on an adult, it’s a pain in the exhaust port.

“Maybe you can tell us why. Friend.” Cal finishes seeling the door and deactivates his lightsaber. Obi-Wan follows suit.

Cody does not. His blaster is staying trained firmly on Inyak’s face.

“I could,” Inyak muses. “Might make things easier for all of us. Very well. The bounty on you was placed by one Vos Chun of Telos IV,” he reveals.

All three of them blink in surprise. Cody’s credits were on Xanatos. “Chun? Brock’s father?” Obi-Wan’s disbelief is palpable. He’s probably still struggling with his classmate’s betrayal. Cody wonders what has happened to Bruck Chun in the wake of his involvement with Xanatos.

“The kid who set you up to be kidnapped by a crazy ex-Jedi?” Cody asks Obi-Wan.

“He’s almost certainly acting on behalf of Telos’s beloved First Citizen, Xanatos,” Inyak nods, “who I imagine fits your ‘crazy ex-Jedi’ bill.”

Cal snorts in disbelief. “People actually elected him to lead a _planet_?”

Cody’s in agreement: the man he met in the Temple had been almost crazed with his need for revenge. Who in their right mind would _choose_ to work with him?

Inyak starts to laugh. “Oh no! They elected his father, who began a Civil War before meeting his grizzly end at the hands of a Jedi. Fortunately for the good people of Telos, his prodigal son returned from exile years later, with the wealth and might of the system’s biggest mining company behind him. He investigated his father’s crime and, thankfully, proved his innocence. Now, he’s considered a hero, and a person of great influence within the government. Many are vying for his favor. Hence the price on your head, my young friend.” He finishes with an open-handed gesture in Obi-Wan’s direction.

Maybe his credits aren’t too far off the mark.

Cody should’ve shot the Shabuir more than once. “Great. That’s great.”

“Beep boop,” BD-1 beeps angrily from Cal’s shoulder.

“And where does that leave you, _beroya?”_ Cody demands. What stakes does the bounty hunter have in all this? He’s clearly after _something_. That, or his attempt to murder him and Cal, and kidnap Obi-Wan involves talking them to death.

Inyak shrugs his shoulder dramatically. _“_ In a quandary,” he admits. “See, on the one hand, ten million credits would be _very_ nice. Perhaps not worth testing the whole ‘thou shalt not seek revenge’ thing the Jedi have going for them, but a pretty cushy payday. Then, on the other hand, I’d rather like to rip Xanatos’s head off and take a shit down his throat.”

Oh, for the love of... that’s what he’s after? _Kark_ no. Not a karking _chance_.

“That seems a little... extreme,” Obi-Wan says, still so painfully polite.

“Perhaps. I don’t do things by half. Certainly nothing so serious as vengeance.” Some of that irreverent humor has left Inyak’s expression, leaving only the cold, hard eyes of a professional behind.

Obi-Wan either doesn’t see the warning signs or doesn’t care. Knowing him, the latter. “Why? What did he do to you?” There’s that infinite compassion that almost always ends with Cody having to shoot something in the face.

Inyak leans back into the Captain’s chair. “Telos is a beautiful world, did you know that? Rich with the most exquisite natural resources. A real point of pride for the Telosians. Xanatos brought Offworld to our planet and began terraforming. He’s destroyed everything that makes it special, all of our sacred spaces. And to keep people looking in the opposite direction he’s done away with the old taxation laws and installed _Catharsis_.”

 _Our planet?_ Kark, this is even worse than he feared. He knows _exactly_ how this is going down now.

Krifing soft-hearted Jedi...

“Catharsis?” Cal frowns. Cody doesn’t recognize the name either.

“A game,” Inyak explains. “A gambler’s paradise. Everyone plays it. They close down most of the cities so people can attend. People drive themselves deeper and deeper into debt with the hope of winning that ‘life-changing score’ and pay no attention to what is happening in the world beyond them. Those few who do...” his expression twists in disgust, his teeth bared with calculating intimidation.

“He took someone from you, didn’t he?” Obi-Wan asks, his voice so soft and so kind, his General’s compassion and generous heart already beating strong in his chest. Cody can almost hear it alongside his own, a comfortable warmth that battles with the knowledge of how easily that kindness can be taken advantage of.

“My little brother Avan,” Inyak says. Behind his cold eyes is something fractured and broken. Cody feels for him, he does. Losing a brother is an experience he has repeated too many times to count. He can understand wanting a little payback, he’s been there. But he’s not risking _his_ brothers in an attempt to avenge Inyak’s loss.

“Not another bounty hunter then?” Cal gently prompts.

Yeah, he’s almost as bad as Obi-Wan.

This? This is exactly why Jedi have always needed their Commanders.

Cody still hasn’t lowered his weapon.

Inyak’s expression softens, his eyes turning to the past. “Hardly. A dreamer. A foolhardy idealist with his head in the clouds. He loved Telos. Loved our people, our planet. He didn’t buy into the lies and he found proof of Xanatos’s crimes.” That soft nostalgia becomes furious grief. “He was given a public execution between Catharsis games. The people cheered for the death of a boy who was only trying to save them.”

“I’m so sorry, Inyak,” Obi-Wan whispers.

A moment, then back comes that wry irreverence. Armor and deflection in one. “Ah. That’s life, right? Bad men like me wreck our way through it without so much as a scratch, but a gentle soul gets cut down before his time can truly begin.”

“That’s why you’ve come to collect the bounty, isn’t it?” Obi-Wan’s troubled expression clears as he puts the pieces together.

Inyak grins.“You’re not so slow. For a Jedi.” Cody forces himself _not_ to pull the trigger.

“You better not be suggesting that we let a bounty hunter we’ve just met use you as bait to get to a Fallen Jedi with almost unlimited financial resources and an entire planet at his beck and call,” he says, aiming for flat refusal and landing somewhere closer to bewildered unhappiness.

Obi-Wan shrugs. “It’s not the worst plan.”

“How can a plan _be_ any worse?” Thank the little gods for Cal.

That doesn’t stop the boy rounding on his Master, eyes earnestly wide and eager. “Master, please. Xanatos needs to be held accountable for his crimes. This might be the only way of getting to him without risking civilian lives.”

_Karking Jedi._

“Jedi Junior has the right idea.” Inyak has _no_ idea how badly Cody wants to shoot him.

“My name is Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan says firmly.

“I’ve wasted everyone’s time if it isn’t,” Inyak chuckles.

“I don’t like this, Padawan,” says Cal in what has to be the understatement of the entire Karking millennium.

“We need to deal with Chun,” Cody points out. Xanatos is the overall threat, yes, but while Chun still walks free, the bounty on Obi-Wan’s head is going nowhere.

“We _need_ to talk to the Council,” Cal clarifies.

The Council Cody knows would absolutely approve this clustershab of a plan. He hopes they haven’t yet fallen into the murky depths of morality that the war will lead them to.

“Good luck with that while you’re on this ship,” Inyak points out. “If you hadn’t noticed, we’re in deep space.”

“What will you do? If we help you-” Cal starts to ask.

“Which we haven’t said we will.” Cody does his best not to glare at Cal’s unimpressed frown.

“-and you find Xanatos. What do you plan on doing to him?”

“I mentioned ripping off his head...” Inyak points out.

“If we help you, it will be to bring him to justice, to see him face trial. Not to kill him.”

“If?” Cody and Obi-Wan speak at the same time, both in drastically opposing tones.

“ _If_ ,” Cal says firmly.

“I want to save my planet,” Inyak says, looking Cal directly.

“Then that’s something we can help with,” Cal nods.

Obi-Wan nods firmly, fresh adoration in his eyes for his new Master.

 _Just take a deep breath,_ Cody thinks. It’s not like working with bounty hunters has ever led to carnage and the near-death of everything Cody ever loves _before_...

_Karking Jedi._


	8. Chapter 8

“Where did you learn how to fight like that?”

Operation ‘Let’s Ignore The Experienced Military Officer’ is now officially underway, and while Inyak is off securing his part of the bargain - namely finding a way of getting them off this ship - Obi-Wan seems to be giving in to his natural curiosity.

Cody’s on guard duty while Cal fiddles with the ship’s controls. They’ve checked the unconscious officers and all of them are still breathing, but if Inyak doesn’t come through then they’re on their own. Privately, Cody prefers that.

“What was that?” Cal and BD look up as one, in sync in a way that’s rare for a droid and a human. Obi-Wan, doing a respectable job of not fidgeting, tries not to look as wary as he sounds.

“The way you fight,” Obi-Wan says. There’s a spark in him that Cody has yet to really see, and by dropping the honorific he’s been so eagerly inserting into every interaction with Cal, something has visibly shifted between them. Cody can’t see or sense the bond that’s formed between Master and Padawan, but he can imagine what it might be like. There’s a confidence in Obi-Wan’s expression that’s wholly new, and Cody’d bet good credits it’s there because he finally has the bond he’s so badly been craving.

That confidence is a good thing, but experience with both Ashoka and Anakin tells him that it won’t be without its fireworks.

“What about it?” Cal sounds more curious than wary himself.

“Did Master Windu teach you?”

Cal practically chokes on a sharp inhalation of air as he laughs. “What? No! Where’d you get that idea from?”

The boy shrugs one shoulder absently. “You fight a little like him, only-” A pink flush sweeps across his cheeks and up to his ears. Cody’s suddenly delighted. Is _that_ why the General always wore a beard?

“Go on,” Cal prompts with all the dry amusement of someone who knows they’re about to get read to filth.

“Not quite as...polished.”

“I think Master Windu has had a bit more practice than I have,” Cal chuckles.

Obi-Wan misses the amusement in his voice and drops his head into a bow. “Of course! I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, Master, really! I only... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s not my place.”

Cody clears his throat loudly and shoots Cal a stern ‘fix this’ glare that’s met with a helpless and somewhat unnecessary flail of the young Knight’s arms.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Padawan,” Cal says gently, focusing all his attention on his student. “Your observations do you credit.” Obi-Wan raises his head hopefully. “You’re talking about Form Seven, yes?”

“I thought there was only five forms,” Cody cuts in before he can stop himself.

“Taught to Initiates and Padawans, yes,” Cal agrees. “Form Six is more a synthesis of the five previous forms. It’s where Most Jedi usually find themselves progressing to over time. Few focus on the one form to the point of Mastery. Form Six weeds out many of the flaws of its predecessors.”

Few, but some. Obi-Wan at least. Cody doesn’t know enough about the other forms to know how Anakin and Ashoka stacked up.

“It’s not as potent as any of the previous forms,” Obi-Wan adds with a little prompting nod from Cal, “but it’s the most practical.”

“It’s mostly the form I use,” Cal agrees. “With some exceptions.”

“And that’s Seven?”

“Vaapad,” Obi-Wan says.

“Master Windu is considered its most notable practitioner,” adds Cal. “It’s not a form taught to Initiates or Padawan. It’s not even taught to most Knights.”

Obi-Wan leans forward curiously. “Did your Master teach you?”

Cody isn’t sure what reaction he expects from Cal, but the bark of laughter he gets wasn’t a contender. “No! Force no!” A multitude of emotions war for dominance in Cal’s wide eyes. How much can they tell Obi-Wan? How much can they keep from him? It’s an impossible dilemma, and Cody can only wonder how Cal is managing to keep the truth of their situation from Obi-Wan now they have a bond. “Form Seven is... typically... used by those who have fallen from the Light,” he finally says, his voice slow with reluctance. “It draws on the power of the Dark Side, which is something most Jedi won’t even attempt.”

Cody’s fingers clench tightly around his blaster, a shiver of fear racing down his spine and an echo of that cold, hated voice in his ear. “Like the Sith?”

“Not all Jedi who fall become Sith,” Cal points out. His General had said something similar, and he supposes Xanatos isn’t a Sith, despite his fall. Ventress, Savage Opress and even Grievous were neither Jedi _or_ Sith.

“And there hasn’t been a real Sith in over a millennium,” Obi-Wan adds with a kind, reassuring smile, “you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Just the bounty hunters,” Cody mutters, unable to meet the boy’s gaze.

“Just them,” Obi-Wan’s smile is bright, almost cheeky, before it settles into something more contemplative. “You didn’t _feel_ Dark when you fought.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cal says dryly.

“No, I mean-”

“I know what you mean,” he promises. A heavy sigh adds years to his face, his shoulders curling forward almost protectively. “The truth is... the truth is...” but he trails off, lost for words. 

“It’s alright, Master.” Obi-Wan moves silently to his side, a tentative hand raised to rest against his arm. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Cal has never been hit by the full power that is Obi-Wan Kenobi’s kindness. He’s seen shadows of it, no doubt heard stories, but it’s clear from the stricken look in his eyes that he has no idea how to handle being caught in the unfiltered light of so much goodness. Cody sympathizes. Obi-Wan’s kindness can be as devastating as a blaster bolt to the chest.

“You deserve to know the truth,” Cal says regretfully, weight to his words that Obi-Wan can’t possibly understand.

He’s flashed a wry grin. “You can tell me after we’re done with Inyak and Xanatos?” he offers.

As if summoned by his words, there’s a flurry of complicated raps on the bridge doors. Then, after a length of silence, “ _It’s me! Inyak! Your favorite bounty hunter!"_

“I really would be a lot happier with this plan if you let me shoot him, Boss,” Cody says, pained.

“Now, Cody, we promised we’d help.”

_They_ promised. Cody did no such thing. The first sign of trouble and he’s taking a leaf out of Rex’s book.

Cal checks the security feed from outside the door before letting Inyak inside and closing them again behind him. They all stay wary as the bounty hunter enters with an exuberant and dramatic bounce in his step. “Good news, my friends! I have reached an agreement with our fellow travelers.”

Oh, he doesn’t like the sound of that.

“Agreement?” he asks suspiciously.

“I stabbed a few of them and they now agree that letting us leave the ship peacefully is the best course of action.”

“A few?”

“Most,” Inyak amends. “Alright, they’re all dead, but they don’t need to be alive to agree with us leaving.”

“You killed them _all_?” Cody doesn’t give two-thirds of a frack about dead bounty hunters, but Obi-Wan looks stricken. Cal steps closer to him, his presence projecting reassurance and calm.

Inyak seems less concerned with the boy’s gentle heart. “The best of them would’ve handed your dead body in for credits,” he says flatly. “The worst of them would've kept you alive and had some fun with you on the trip. Don’t feel sorry for them.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw squares stubbornly, unafraid despite Inyak’s threats.

Against his better judgment, Cody smiles. That's the Obi-Wan he knows. 

"So what's next?" he asks.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is pretty rough. Cody (all of them, but this is Cody's POV) has serious PTSD. Cody (and again, all of them because oi) is stubbornly in denial of that fact. 
> 
> Also, the sarcasm is strong with him right now. Poor guy.

The plan is straight forward enough. It has that in its favor. Cody hates every part of it, but he can’t deny that it’s simple. They’re going to use Obi-Wan as a bargaining chip to force Vox Chun into betraying Xanatos. Chun wants Obi-Wan to give to his new best friend as a party favor? Fine. They can use Chun to leverage enough incriminating evidence on Xanatos to remove him from power on Telos and bring OffWorld up in front of the Senate. If everything goes to plan, no one will be hurt, not even Xanatos. The good guys will prevail, the bad guys will be punished, and everyone goes home happy.

Everyone, that is, but Cody, who is up against a wall and giving serious consideration to banging his head against it.

“It’ll be fine,” Cal lays a hand on his shoulder and draws him gently to one side of the bridge. “You’ll be going with them, posed as another bounty hunter, and I won’t be far behind you. We’re not going to let anything happen to him, I swear.” Because that's also part of the plan. Cody looks the part, so he gets to play pretend while Cal watches from a distance. _He_ gets to be the one to physically put Obi-Wan in harm's way, while Cal stays in the shadows. 

“I’m gonna take great care of Jedi Junior!” Inyak doesn’t bother to pretend he’s giving them some privacy and throws a boisterous arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Cody jerks, ready to rip it right out of its socket and is relieved when Obi-Wan ducks away with a look of supreme distaste.

“I’m capable of looking after myself, thanks,” he says.

And he _is_ , Cody knows he is...

Knowing and accepting are two very different things, and Obi-Wan is so _small_...

Small _er_. Smaller.

And he’ll be damned six times over before he lets Inyak put that _thing_ on the boy.

The object in question, simple and black and ominous, is a firm sticking point in their plan.

Obi-Wan has agreed to it. Cody _and_ Cal have been vocally - violently - opposed. As the one who needs to sell the whole charade, Obi-Wan gets the final say. Because letting the thirteen-year-old boy who wants desperately to help people decide where to draw the line is a karking _great_ idea.

“We can still go with the drugs,” Inyak offers. One or the other. Like it’s a _choice._ Obi-Wan shudders, shakes his head, and that’s how they’re here, Cody and Cal, both sworn to protect, both standing back while a karking bounty hunter wraps a Force suppressant collar around the throat of their teenage charge.

He hates this.

He should _make it clear._ He’s not just complaining because that’s what soldiers do. He’s not just complaining because he’s paranoid and overprotective. He’s... well he _is_. But.

But Cal is not his General, their equilibrium has yet to be established, and Cody... Cody doesn’t trust himself to fight his own corner. Obi-Wan might’ve been able to tell the difference between his lack of enthusiasm and his legitimate concerns, but then the General knew him so well that he’d never had a problem looking past the mask of professionalism Cody crafted and maintained so painstakingly. No one else had ever come close, not even his brothers.

Certainly not Cal, who is testing the waters, and Obi-Wan, who thinks obedience is the most important part of proving himself a Good Jedi.

And kark, maybe it is all just paranoia? Maybe he’s so messed in the head by everything that’s happened that he’s making gundarks out of tookas? Maybe...

“You don’t have to do any of this,” Cal assures Obi-Wan. “We can still call this off.”

“That would be rather rude,” Inyak frowns. Cody growls, the sound vibrating low in his throat. “But entirely understandable,” he quickly tacks on.

“I can do this, Master,” Obi-Wan assures. He nods at Inyak, who lifts the collar to his throat.

 _He_ probably can. Cody isn’t so sure of his own ability.

“You know, these ones are by far the most comfortable,” Inyak chatters as he fiddles with the fastenings. “Sonic charge. None of that nasty electro-shock banthashite, no chemicals. You’re looking at a thirty-six-hour battery life. Once that’s up, you can throw people around with that little Jedi mind of yous all you like even if no one takes it off for you.”

“Thirty-six hours isn’t so bad,” Obi-Wan says, not quite able to keep the nerves from his expression.

“Course not, kid,” Cody agrees gruffly. He doesn’t mention that thirty-six hours is a karking lifetime when in the hands of someone who wants to hurt you.

“This one is more comfortable than the one I wore on Bandomeer,” the boy adds, oblivious to the way both Cody and Cal grimace.

There’s another reason to hate Xanatos: he strapped explosives to the neck of a karking _child_.

“See! What did I tell you?” Inyak pats him cheerfully on the shoulder and takes a step back to allow him room to inspect the collar.

Cody’s head makes an uncontrolled leap back in time. There’s a collar around that pale neck again, but the damage has already been done. His General’s been brutalized, beaten bloody by filthy slaver scum and Cody _found_ him, but he’s already being forced to fight the next battle, to move forward without time to heal, and Rex, brave, reckless Rex, who shakes and screams in his sleep...

He draws himself back with sharp, furious focus.

“I’m okay,” Obi-Wan assures them, “really.”

“Course you are! Now, when we talk to our illustrious Mr Chun, try to look suitably scared, and/or angry. Which do you think would sell it more?”

“Er-”

“Right, right, doesn’t really matter. Hands please.”

Oh no. No karking way. “You’re not putting him in cuffs.” He doesn’t care what chain of command it messes with; the second Inyak tries to put cuffs on Obi-Wan, Cody has him by the throat. This isn't happening. Not now, not ever. “You’re not taking him!”

The bounty hunter might be dangerous, deadly even, but Cody was _made_ to break things. Fingers scrabble at his hand, clawing, nails sheathed harmlessly behind thick gloves. Cody doesn’t let up for a second. He’s bigger, stronger, he’s not standing by and _watching..._

Cool fingers curl around his wrist, an order to stand down issued by the voice of a Commander.

A commander he _outranks_. Habit puts him dutifully in Cal’s sphere of command, habit and respect and maybe a pile of stinking, congealed guilt. But he outranks...

Cal’s face blurs. The boy acts like a Padawan but carries himself like a Knight. A Commander still, or a General? Does it matter? Cody answers to one man first, above all others.

_Execute order 66._

Not _all_ others.

A whimper tears its way up to his throat, horror digging sharp claws into his windpipe. Inyak's the one choking, but Cody can't _breathe_.

“Cody, Cody, it’s okay...”

A soothing wave of calm washes over him, taking him under and drowning out the fear and the hate and the _guilt this is your fault you killed him he’s dead because of you they're all dead..._

It’s Obi-Wan, the hated collar unlocked and dormant at his feet, his hands on Cody’s arm, gentle where Cal’s were forceful.

“I’m safe, no one is going to hurt me, we’re okay.” He says the words softly, earnestly, and they’re a lie. They’re a lie because Cody does nothing but fail him, has been doing nothing but fail him ever since he got here, and Obi-Wan was _dying_ in his arms not hours ago.

Something tentative and small pushes up against him. Cal, but not. Cal, but so young and so afraid.

Cody has to protect them. Both of them. He has to keep them safe or he’s going to lose his mind.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ a voice in his head says.

 _“We’re okay,”_ another one adds.

_“Let him go. You can let him go.”_

The thoughts that brush his mind are alien and strange and _scary._ But not. Obi-Wan and Cal are drawing him into the space that exists between them, invisible and connected. Cody’s part it, held by it, warmed by it.

“ _I’ve got you, Cody._ ” Another voice. A voice he’d die for if only someone gave him the choice. His General, weary and wounded, kind and certain. The warmth and comfort he feels from Obi-Wan and Cal now, he’s felt once before.

He’d been dying then, bleeding out on the battlefield, a medic knuckles deep in his gut, trying to stem the flow of blood. Cody, looking up at his General’s face and the crown of blood-red clouds that circled in the sky above. He’d wrapped Cody up in arms made of so much more than flesh and blood and carried him away to a place without pain. Cody should’ve died, but he didn’t. He shouldn’t have remembered, but he does.

Obi-Wan has always been his anchor. He was then. He is now.

He lets himself go, knowing he won’t drift too far.

And comes back on his knees, two teenage Jedi propping him up and holding him steady.

What _was_ that?

“Panic attack?” Cal’s voice is warm against his neck. BD-1 beeps mournfully in support.

“I don’t panic.” His words sound more certain than his voice. He _can’t_ panic.

“They suck,” Cal agrees. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting what you’ve been through.”

Cody’s not been through shit. Cody’s the _cause_ of so much trauma and death, not the victim of it.

Still, when Inyak lets out a choking, wheezing laugh and says, “You, friend, have _issues_.”

Cody can’t help but respond with, “You’ve got no idea.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the continuing adventures of Cody Deserves A Vacation, Obi-Wan throws (another) spanner in the works...
> 
> We're about to turn a plot corner and head DEEP into AU territory! If Cody thought Xanatos was bad...

Cody and Obi-Wan have a small cabin on a tiny little cruiser Inyak has ‘liberated’ from the hold of Galaxy Eighty-Six. Cal, traveling with BD-1, has taken a one-man jet and is following the course laid in by the bounty hunter. They’re off to Telos. What Cal is planning on telling the Council, Cody doesn’t know. He doubts it will be as eloquent as the banthashite the General would occasionally spin.

‘ _I’m on the Council. Cody, I have to at least_ pretend _to be subtle.’_

He doesn’t think subtle is a word in Cal’s dictionary. For now, not Cody’s problem. His problem is more mission orientated. Namely, Vox Chun and all the ways Cody is going to break every kriffing bone in his body...

Vox Chun. And Inyak. Who he knows is going to double-cross them at some point down the line. Experience leaves no other possibility. 

But for now, Inyak’s flying the ship and Obi-Wan is, for lack of a better word, hovering.

They’re sat shoulder to shoulder in the small room, no other company but for the stars beyond, so the hovering is more emotional than physical. The boy wants to help, and Cody... Cody aches in a way he only associates with battle. Everything from the eyebrows down feels heavy. Old. Ready for retirement.

Panic attacks - and they’re still debating that one because Cody doesn’t have time to panic, not when they’re on their way to blackmail a murderous ex-Jedi - are the karking worst.

He wants to sleep. He wants to sleep the way he used to on missions, _vode_ piled on top of one another with no care or concern for personal space. He wants that companionship. That warmth. That - _kriffing hells_ \- safety.

The trip has mostly been spent in silence, but eventually, the innate curiosity of a teenager wins through.

“I remind you of someone, don’t I?” His General had always seen more than Cody wanted. His ability to reach beyond the face Cody showed the world to touch what lay behind the mask was something he hated at first. His mind was the one thing that was his, that his creators couldn’t take from him. It was the only thing that he had any control over. To be faced with this Jedi, this man who could read him with just a glance... oh, he made his General earn the trust such a dangerous ability came with, and Obi-Wan never let him down.

This child likely doesn’t realize the power his insight gives him, might be clumsy with is as children so often are, but his heart is the same as Cody’s General. He’s just as kind, just as _good_ , and the grief that has dug such deep thorns in his heart withers a little under the warmth of that familiar light. “What makes you say that?” he asks, his body hurting almost as badly as his heart.

Obi-Wan chews on his lip, a far off look in his eyes.“You’ve been... protective of me. Since the minute we met. I never gave you any reason to be, not then, and now...” he meets Cody’s gaze only for a second before dropping it and staring at the clasped hands in his lap. There are a few loose threads on the sleeve of his tunic and Cody can _hear_ him telling Anakin not to fiddle. Cody wonders what Skywalker would make of this boy.

“Now?” he prompts, the silence becoming heavy. There’s so much going on behind those wide eyes and without the shadow of experience and trial, there’s little there to mask it from Cody’s knowing gaze. His General had no idea what he meant to Cody, what he meant to their men. He valued their loyalty, treasured their dedication to the Republic, and was so blind to their love. The younger brothers, the ones who never knew Jango, whispered _Buir_ when they thought Cody wasn’t listening. They adored him. All of them.

It hurts, knowing how much they loved him. Knowing how little he understood.

Sure enough, Obi-Wan finds his courage and raises his chin. “I’m not worth the pain you’re in,” he says with firm assurance.

He might’ve sensed them coming, but to hear the words, to have this ad’ika vocalize the sense of inadequacy that will plague his whole life...

Obi-Wan isn’t done. “Can I ask? Who he was?”

“He was...” Gods, where does Cody even _start_? The truth at least, or as close as he can tell it. He never told his General and it’s not the same, telling Obi-Wan when he can never understand, but the words demand to be spoken. “He was everything to me. My commanding officer, my best friend, my brother, my...” he swallows and remembers _why_ he never disciplined his men for their overfamiliarity, “my father.”

Something bright dawns in Obi-Wan’s eyes. “He was your Qui-Gon Jinn,” he says knowingly. He looks around, skittish and shy, then presses closer to Cody, who has no idea how to even begin unpicking that confession. “Please don’t say anything to Cal, he’s a wonderful Master and I’m lucky to have him, I know that. But I miss Master Qui-Gon.”

And he does. Cody can feel it. “I know, ad’ika. He doesn’t deserve you, but I know.” He speaks the words without thought and curses himself, waiting for more of the boy’s self-recrimination.

Instead, Obi-Wan surprises him. “Did he - your-”

“General.”

“Did your General deserve what you feel for him?” The words aren’t accusing, but they rest heavy on his heart regardless. Of course Obi-Wan asks this, Of course Obi-Wan doubts, even now, even without _knowing_.

“You know those people? The rare ones. The ones who make you want to be better just by existing? Who can make you believe that you’re capable of anything, so long as they have faith in you?” Obi-Wan nods, a different sort of brightness in his eyes. Kark, if he cries Cody will die inside. “That was my General. He was kind and gentle, and a pain in the ass. And I owe him everything,”

“He sounds like Cerasi,” Obi-Wan says with a sad smile.

Cody quirks his head, surprised. “Not Jinn?”

“I don’t think Master Jinn has ever really believed in me. One day, maybe. I hope to earn that.” And just like that, Cody is back to hating the boy’s former master. “But no, Cerasi was one of the Young. On Melida/Daan.”

“Your friend,” Cody remembers. “The one who died.”

“She believed so badly in peace. She was so sure of it. I never doubted her. The world she saw was so beautiful that it had to be possible, just because she dreamed it so. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Cody says, his voice tight in his throat. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

There are more questions lurking at the edge of Obi-Wan’s consciousness, but for now he falls into silence, his gaze turning to the blur of stars beyond the viewing window beside them. They’re coming out of hyperspace.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Cody promises quietly, hoping that Obi-Wan doesn’t understand the lengths Cody is willing to go to.

“I’m not your General,” Obi-Wan replies, his tone gentle but no less devastating when they impact, “but I’ll try to be the kind of person he was. I’ll try to be worthy of your friendship.”

And now Cody is going to be the one who cries. “Kid-”

“ _Time to go mu- lightly maim and blackmail some badguys!”_ Inyak announces loudly over the ship’s radio.

Obi-Wan stands and rubs his throat, no doubt thinking of the collar that’s soon to be wrapped around it. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Cody abruptly bangs his head against a low storage cabinet while trying to stand too quickly.

Oh no. No, no, no, _no._ Every time _\- every karking time -_ his General said those words, something utterly disastrous followed. Every time. Without exception.

“Then why are we here?” he tries not to yell. _Haar'chak,_ why is this his kriffing life?

Obi-Wan shrugs, oblivious to Cody’s internal meltdown. “I’m supposed to focus on the here and now, not some unforeseeable possibility. It’ll probably be fine.

First, ‘probably’ means shab when applied to missions of any kind.

Second, that’s Jinn. That ‘here and now’ banthashite is Jinn. Jedi are kriffing _psychic!_ Why is it so hard to believe that some of them have foresight?

“If we survive this,” Cody growls at him, “we’re gonna have a long talk about these bad feelings of yours.” Cal will know what to say. Cal sees things just by touching them, he’s not about to undermine or discredit Obi-Wan’s intuition.

None of the boy’s previous maturity is visible as he raises a teasing eyebrow. “ _If_? Where’s your positivity, Cody?”

“Kriffing a gundark,” Cody shoots back, prompting a snort of laughter. “When. _When_ we get back. And then in future, you maybe mention your bad feelings _before_ we board a ship with a bounty hunter who is about to trade you in for credits?”

“Yes, Cody,” Obi-Wan says in much the same tone he says ‘Yes, Master’.

_I have a bad feeling about this._

_Kark._ Someone is getting shot, he just knows it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um. The shit hits the fan on two fronts here. Or maybe three, depending on your point fo view. 
> 
> I DID say someone was going to get shot...
> 
> Also. Clone Wars season 7 is only one ep in and I am already fragile. Send help.

They land in one of the smaller, private docking bays in the Financial District of Telos’s capital city Thani. Inyak confirms their arrival with Vos Chun, assuring that the bay will be empty of both civilians and security as they all participate in the casual kidnapping of a teenage boy.

Cody has those gods forsaken words Obi-Wan spoke running around his head in a loop. As a precaution, he opens a comm. line up to Cal, who will be arriving off-site in twenty minutes. 

All they have to do is make contact with Chun, confirm Xanatos’s involvement, then get Obi-Wan back into space and as far away from the fallen Jedi as quickly as possible. Inyak will deal with Chun, and he'll rendezvous with Cal and Cody on the outskirts of the city to gather evidence of OffWorld’s mining activities. The double-pronged attack should give them more than enough evidence to start an investigation within the Senate. The Republic has far too much invested in Telos to let Xanatos’s corruption pass unchecked.

Not that they haven’t turned a blind eye to worse in the past. _Future_. Probably both?

Either it will give them the result they need, or it will be useful in swaying some of the more skeptical members of the High Council to the fact that the Senate is as corrupt as a Hutt’s gambling den.

“Last chance to back out!” Inyak announces cheerfully. Cody slips his comm. into his boot while Inyak taps away at a datapad and confirms their landing manifest. Cody's already clipped a tiny tracking bead into Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid that the bounty hunter doesn’t need to know about.

Obi-Wan isn’t happy - apparently, beads in Padawan braids have special meanings to Jedi - but it’s that or swallowing it.

“Let’s go,” Obi-Wan says with all the confidence of youth. He fastens the collar around his own neck, then lets Cody check it. The only reason Cody's hands aren't shaking when he does is a lifetime's experience of handling explosives while being shot at. 

“Okay?” Cody asks, hating every second the kriffing thing is active.

Obi-Wan nods as best he can with the weight and pressure. “Yeah.”

“Please don’t try to kill me this time,” Inyak pleads, setting down his datapad and tentatively handing over a pair of cuffs.

Cody grunts, his scowl blastproof even under Obi-Wan’s encouraging smile. But he fastens the kriffing things around Obi-Wan’s wrists, almost relieved to see that the cuffs - which have been manufactured for an adult - aren’t even close to being too tight. With some effort, Obi-Wan can probably wriggle free of them.

“Maybe less smiling?” Inyak suggests to Obi-Wan. “I’ve got this whole intimidating vibe thing going and you’re kinda killing it.” He waves a hand up towards his face and bares his teeth.

Cody reaches out and squeezes Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine,” he promises, ignoring Inyak.

Obi-Wan beams at him. “I know,” he says, as though any doubt has been put to rest just by having Cody with him.

Cody will be worthy of that truth. He _will_.

Gently leading the boy from the ship, he keeps a steadying hand on his shoulder. To an outsider, he is manhandling a prisoner. To Obi-Wan, he’s trying to convey all the support and encouragement he can while there is still a chance.

Inyak starts to follow and is just at the bottom of the ship’s ramp when his comm chimes.

“Hang on,” he says, “it might be Chun.”

It’s not Chun. Cody can’t actually tell who the figure is, nor can he understand any of the three short words that are spoken.

Inyak doesn’t actually respond before the comm ends.

“Is everything okay?” Obi-Wan asks, and _kark_ , there's that bad feeling...

“Change of plan,” Inyak says, drawing a blaster and aiming it at Obi-Wan’s head.

Cody moves without though, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and swinging him out of the line of fire. He can’t defend himself, not without access to the Force, not without his lightsaber. It’s on Cody to do this one thing right.

The bolt from the blaster hits just wrong. Or just right. It hits Cody, not Obi-Wan, and that’s all that matters. Still, an inch lower and it would’ve glanced off his chest plate. Cracked ribs, maybe, a bruise for the record books. Instead, it skids along the very top of his armor, the blast penetrating that small, vulnerable strip of skin that was never left unprotected by his old shell. It hits hard and it hits _bad_.

His collarbone shatters, the bolt tearing through flesh and blood with devastating force. It’s hard to say if its pain or the momentum of the hit that knocks him off his feet, but it _is_ his impact with the ground that turns the world white.

“You good guys are so _predictable_!” The disappointment in Inyak’s voice drifts over him in oscillating waves. Cody’s choking on _something_. It might be blood, or it might be the wave of fear that’s rolling off Obi-Wan.

Probably that. He’s in the boy’s lap, Obi-Wan’s cuffed hands looped protectively over his chest.

“What are you doing?” he cries, the hurt and betrayal in his voice all Cody’s fault. He knew it. He karking knew and- _krif it hurts_.

He just. Needs a second. A second to get back on his feet. To buy the boy enough time to run.

Who’s he kriffing kidding? Obi-Wan is never going to run.

“Please,” Obi-Wan’s voice cuts through the fog that’s threatening to pull Cody under. “Please, don’t hurt him. We can go to Xanatos together. We can get your reward _and_ avenge your brother. Just please don’t hurt him.” It feels wrong. Feels like something Obi-Wan shouldn’t say.

“Yeah, I don’t have a brother,” Inyak laughs. “You Jedi are all the same: spin you a good sob story and you’ll fall over yourselves to help. Even when you _know_ something is wrong.” His face appears in Cody’s line of sight as he crouches down next to them both. “Should've listened to your friend here, kid.”

He moves to press down on Cody’s wound. Cody, who still can’t kriffing _breathe_ right, is helpless to avoid it.

They’re _both_ helpless. _Krif_ , Obi-Wan is practically wrapped up like a gift, neat little force collar and everything. What was Cody _thinking_?

But Inyak doesn’t get to even start applying pressure to the wound. Obi-Wan, firey and less defenseless than he looks, headbutts him instead.

Cody loves this kirffing ad’ika. Even if he is now splattered with Inyak’s blood.

Inyak, unfortunately, seems to find it hilarious. He leaves Cody alone, turns his full attention to Obi-Wan. “Oh kid, they are gonna _love_ you on Hunters Moon.”

Cody stops listening. And breathing is overrated. When the bounty hunter starts to rise to his feet, Cody goes for his own blaster. He just needs one shot...

A heavy boot swings out and kicks the weapon from his grasp.

Then comes down hard on his shoulder.

Inyak’s sharp teeth flash in a final smile, and the world falls from Cody’s grasp.

* * *

He wakes up screaming, his bodyweight hanging from one painfully extended arm. The other hangs uselessly beside him and his bloody, bandaged shoulder is the first thing he sees when the red finally clears from his vision.

He’s hovering several feet in the air, caught in the inescapable grasp of an ion prison system. He can’t move, and it’s probably a good thing. From the taste in his mouth, he’s already thrown up at least once.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been out. It’s dark around him, but he’s inside. On a ship?

Where’s Obi-Wan?

“Careful. I wouldn’t try to move yet.” The voice that speaks from behind him is soft and cultured, and it sends a shiver of dread down his spine that cuts clean through his pain. “We nearly lost you. Let’s not risk repeating that.”

“Where is he?” It takes Cody three attempts to get the words out. His throat is dry and rough, as well as tasking like something's died in it. It’s been too long since he’s had something to drink.

How long?

“The boy? I’d ask you the same question, but I think we’ve both been double-crossed. We found you at the exchange point, but no sign of little Obi-Wan. Pity. I was looking forward to killing him.”

Someone clears their throat, the sound low and deep. Cody’s not alone with this shabuir.

“Meet the brat before you judge me.” Xanatos steps out of the shadows, confirming that Cody’s not just having pain-induced hallucinations. He’s never been that lucky.

That’s proven when a Jedi follows Xanatos into the light.

The sight of those familiar brown robes should be a good thing.

It’s not.

In fact, the Jedi in question is the very _last_ person Cody wants to see.

Dooku.


	12. Chapter 12

Of the many and varied enemies they have collected over the years - there are _many_ , and they have been _varied_ \- Count Dooku has always held a special place of honor on Cody’s Shit List. He’s on a platform even Krell and Maul don’t manage to reach, despite the former butchering Cody’s _vode_ and the latter murdering two of the people his General loved the most. Cody hates Dooku not just for his staggering number of war crimes, his role in the many losses and traumas they experience, or his position as the Seppies’ leader. Those things earn him Cody’s animosity, his focus, his professional attention, his disgust.

But Dooku tries to _turn_ his General to the dark. He claims to care for him, to cherish him as part of his lineage, and yet at every turn the man will seek to destroy everything that makes Obi-Wan Kenobi what he is. The man is as close to family as the Jedi really get, and it _hurts_ his General to fight the man his own Master respected so highly.

Cody can piece together a timeline, even through the relentless throb of pain that’s stabbing him between the eyes. The Jedi robes aren’t stolen - they clearly belong to Dooku, who has either been a lying, cheating shab for _years_ longer than anyone will ever know, or he’s...

Cody doesn’t know what the alternative is.

Ultimately, he doesn’t trust Dooku as far as he can spit.

Which, _gods_ , he’s thirsty.

Dooku approaches Cody with the same elegant, predatory gait of his memories. An intimidating and powerful adversary then, he will be infinitely more so now he’s younger and stronger. Krif, this is going to be unpleasant.

“So,” the low resonance of Dooku’s voice has always made Cody want to straighten up and salute and he hates it, “you are the reason my Padawan no longer has an apprentice of his own.”

Cody bares his teeth and says nothing. This isn’t his first rodeo and it won’t be the first time someone will torture him for information on Obi-Wan. If loyalty to his General could keep him quiet through the worst physical pain of his life then it has to count extra when it comes to protecting the boy. Not, he thinks grimly, that he _knows_ where Obi-Wan is now.

He should’ve killed Inyak when he had the chance. If _anything_ happens to the child because of his failure...

He doesn’t plan on living with _twice_ the pain he’s already endured.

“Best thing he could’ve done with the brat,” Xanatos mutters bitterly. He’s too old to be as bratty as he is, older even than Anakin is when war knocks the edges off his childish temper and hardens him into a warrior.

If he keeps on talking Cody is going to zone right out and spend his time violently plotting both their deaths.

Surprisingly, it’s Dooku who snaps, “Be silent,” in that cold, aristocratic voice. “I have humored you, child, but I have yet to hear one credible reason why I should not drag your petulant hide back to Coruscant for trial.”

Cody narrows his eyes warily.

“I told you that you’d want to meet this one,” Xanatos hisses, pointing at Cody. “I told you where he came from!”

Dooku purses his lip in thinly veiled irritation. There’s something about the set of his jaw that’s startling - an expression so _painfully_ reminiscent of his General. Did Dooku pass that expression on to Jinn and Jinn to his Padawan? The thought makes his chest ache.

“So you said,” Dooku replies. “From the future, yes? How implausible.” It’s hard to tell if he means that, or if he’s being sarcastic. He’s heard Dooku and Obi-Wan have entire conversations based on nothing but politely worded insults and it’s almost impossible to tell the difference.

Xanatos forces himself into Cody’s direct line of vision, his pale face flush with heated fury. “Tell him what your friend told the Council.”

Cody, who has learned the art of being an infuriating shab from the ultimate master, yawns.

Pain hits him in the chest with the force of a speeder. He still can’t move but it’s no longer a blessing as muscles lock and shudder, a burst of high voltage power slamming through him and stealing his ability to even scream.

It lasts for mere seconds.

It feels like hours.

When his vision clears and he’s no longer seeing double through the tear-streaked blur, he’s shocked to see Xanatos sprawled on the ground. The shrapnel scars Cody left him with stand out harsh and ugly on his skin, offset by the bright streak of blood that runs from a split lip.

Even more surprising is the look of hurt betrayal in his eyes. “You’re just like him,” Xanatos spits. “You’re just as bad! Why won’t you listen to me? You’re going to _leave_ the Order! You’re going to wage bloody war against them! You’re going to become a _Sith_. I only want to _help!”_

Dooku’s expression is implacable. Whatever he’s thinking, whatever he feels, stays hidden behind his calm, flint-colored gaze. “Perhaps that is to be my destiny,” he agrees. “But should it be so, it would be for _honor,_ not petty revenge, and I will never turn to the likes of _you_ for help.”

Cody has no idea what is going on or what he’s missed while he’s been unconscious, but he’s not been expecting _this_ , whatever it is. He’s not going to complain. The enemy of his enemy is his... okay, Dooku is always going to be his enemy, but at this point in time he seems to hold the sanity high ground, if not the moral one.

Krif, he might even still have that.

Xanatos’s face morphs into a rictus of rage before he launches himself to his feet, ignites his saber, and-

-hits the wall hard enough that Cody can feel the vibration in his bones.

_Kriffing hells he kriffing hates these kriffing shabuir kriffing-_

Xanatos crumples to the floor unconscious, and Dooku releases Cody from his prison.

The ability to finally move comes with a rainbow of pain. Cody makes his feelings known by puking bile down the front of Dooku’s robes as he moves to support his weight. Being supported, being _helped_ by Dooku makes Cody’s skin crawl. He’ll do something more permanent than mess with the man’s robes if only the world could stop spinning.

When it does, and it _will_ , Cody’s going to pun- _kick_ Dooku right in his lying Sith face for thinking he can fool him.

Dooku, who is miserably and unfairly taller than Cody is, holds him upright with far less effort that is right.

“I think,” he says, no more friendly but somehow less evil than he’s ever sounded in the past, “it is time to return you to Coruscant. My mission is complete and you require more medical attention than I am qualified to give you.”

Cody _should_ keep his mouth shut because he _doesn’t_ trust Dooku, but he can’t help it. “Your mission?”

“You don’t think the Council were intending to leave Du Crion unchecked after the chaos he caused in the Temple, do you?” Dooku says mildly.

Well, no. He knows Jinn wanted to go after him and he knows the Council refused to authorize it. He’s not really thought much about who they might send in his place. Dooku would be his very last guess.

Cere _told_ them what he’s going to go on and become.

And in response they’ve sent Future-Sith-Lord Dooku to apprehend budding-Sith-wannabe Xanatos, shipped Jinn off to Dathomir with a sixteen-year-old Nightsister who hasn’t seen any of her kin since they were brutally slaughtered right in front of her and trusted the hope of the Galaxy to the care of a traumatized Knight, a mildly homicidal droid and _Cody_. Who have let him be kidnapped - again - less than a week into the job. 

Either the Council has collectedly lost their Force-addled minds, or...

He’s not seeing the ‘or’ right now.

Cody, who really isn’t sure how he’s still conscious let alone anything resembling coherent, tries and fails to shove Dooku away.

The Jedi Master is _strong_ , and unlike most Jedi Cody knows, isn't shy about manhandling someone.

The attempt jostles Cody’s uninjured shoulder, which prompts a flinch and a shockwave of pain down his maimed side.

Of all the bones he’s broken - and he’s collected a good variety by now - this is officially the kriffing worst.

Still - “I’m- I’m _not_ leaving him,” he growls around the pain.

“Of course,” Dooku agrees, “by all means, let’s attempt a rescue. I shall locate the child in an undefined, unknown location and you can vomit on his kidnapper.”

“I liked you better when you were evil,” Cody grumbles to himself in irritated Mando’a.

“And I’m certain I come to loathe you with equal vigor,” Dooku responds in kind. “Perhaps though, in light of the circumstances, we can shelve our mutual animosity for a later date?

Cody tells him to krif off because, well, because it’s Dooku.

Dooku, proving that you don’t have to be flying the official Sith flag to be a kriffing evil son of a Hutt, presses his palm to Cody’s forehead and firmly says, “Sleep, _al'verde_.”

Cody hates him. He _hates_ him. He hates...


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you have asked if this takes place before or after the Battle of Galidraan. The events of the whole series take place in the year 44 BBY, but since this year includes Obi-Wan becoming Qui-Gon's Padawan AND the Melida/Daan debacle (which happens over several months) I am placing current events towards the end of the year. 
> 
> Which is a longwinded way of saying yes, the Battle of Galidraan has happened and will play a big part in Dooku's motivations. It will also have a significant impact on any meeting between Cody and Jango. If such thing were to happen... *eyedart*
> 
> As for those of you who want to know who/what Inyak is... if you know what the Hunter's Moon signifies, you might be able to take a guess! If not, I promise all will be answered before the story is done! We're JUST getting started...
> 
> And on a final note, I will be updating the warnings/character list as we go. Things ARE going to get worse before they get better.
> 
> (Okay, I lied... if there are any 'missing scenes' or alternate pov's you want to see, let me know! I won't add them to the main story, but we can have featurettes!)

Cody regains consciousness slowly.

And quickly wishes he were still unconscious.

He feels like bantha shite. Cold, canned bantha shite. 

He's also, he's startled to see, back in the familiar rooms of the Halls of Healing, tucked under clean white bedding and almost nose to nose with a quietly working medical droid. 

Recoiling as best he can from the nosey droid, he takes a moment to run his own diagnostics. Toes? Check. Fingers? _Kriff_ , yeah, they're there. All present and painfully accounted for. His bacta wrapped arm and shoulder is strapped to his chest for extra support and the jarring memory of getting karking shot makes him sink back into his pillow with a groan of misery. 

He hates getting shot.

And did Dooku _really_ save him or was that just some awful, torture induced dream?

Next to the bed, Cal is curled up in the chair, his limbs sprawled in the thoughtless way of youth, Cody’s back aching just looking at him. He looks exhausted, heavy bruise colored bags beneath his closed eyes and an unhappy frown adding years to his boyish face. There’s a very faint smattering of facial hair growing on his chin and upper lip and something fond uncurls in Cody’s chest.

He’s put some thought into it since meeting the kid, pieced together details Cal has shared or let slip, and knows now why his heart says _vod’ika_ when the word _vod_ does _not_ belong to an outsider. Little Cal Kestis, assigned with his master Jaro Tapal to the 13th Iron Battalion. Too young to be fighting, too young to be outside a kriffing classroom, and the absolute treasure of the clone troopers who proudly adopted him as their little brother.

And by no means the only Jedi Padawan to be considered such. He thinks of Ashoka, of Barris, of all the Jedi children thrown into a war long before they’re grown. Many of the shinies were younger, even than Cal. Eight. _Seven_. Freshly minted and ready to die for the Republic. Keeping all of their _vod’ika_ safe was an impossible task, but protecting the little Jedi that carried such weight on their small shoulders? Cody knows many of his brothers were in agreement: if they could do _that_ then...

Far easier to try and protect one child than a thousand. Far _simpler_ to cling to their successes than to drown under their losses.

So the likes of Cal get adopted, become _vod’ika_ , and it might not be right, might not be tradition, but if nothing else, Cody thinks he and his _vode_ have earned the right to chose their own families.

The General, of course, was never _vod’ika,_ though sometimes it was nice to imagine they were _his._

As for the child Obi-Wan is now...

“You’re awake!” Cal uncurls his long legs from under himself and leans forward to rest his elbows on Cody’s bed. Cody grunts, tries to sit, and immediately loses his fight with gravity.

“ _Kark_!”

“Easy,” Cal rests a hand on the shoulder closest to himself - the one not currently swathed in bacta strips - and supports him until he can settle back into the relative discomfort of the pillows. “You screw with that shoulder and Healer Che will kill you. And then me.”

“We’re..?”

Coherent speech is hard. He feels fuzzy, the kind that follows a significant length of unconsciousness.

“You’re back at the Temple,” Cal assures him. “I got to Telos just as you were taken. I managed to put a tracker on Xanatos’s ship and was following you when Dou- _Master_ Dooku sent me a comm.” Cody clearly isn’t the only one having issues with the fact that Dooku is, maybe, not completely evil. Or at least not yet. What's the Galaxy coming to? “Six days,” he adds softly, the bruises under his eyes accounted for when Cody frowns at him. “You were in bad shape. You nearly died.”

“Should’ve,” he spits bitterly, clearly still on a lot of drugs because he has never said something like that _out loud_ , but he means it.

“Cody-” Cal starts.

But Cody is having none of it. He doesn’t want Cal’s reassurance, doesn’t want his absolution. His one and only purpose in life is to _protect_ Obi-Wan, and he’s failed him yet again.

Six days since Dooku rescued him and who knows how long he was unconscious for before waking up on his ship?

Obi-Wan has been missing for at least a week.

Cody’s going to be sick.

Tears fill his eyes instead, angry and broken and raw, “I walked us into a trap with both kriffing eyes open! I _knew_ he couldn’t be trusted, and I let him... I let him just...” the words stick in his throat. He can’t think beyond Obi-Wan’s small, pale face, his eyes wet and his skin bruised and Cody might as well have killed the boy himself...

No. No, he doesn’t have time for this. Not now. Maybe not ever. Obi-Wan needs him and what Cody feels doesn’t matter. He’s failed, he’s kriffed up, and the galaxy still carries on. He can do this. He can push on. Push through. Shelve his shit. Complete his mission. He’s done it before. So many times.

But _gods_ , it’s getting harder each time. Each fight chips away at his soul and he doesn’t have his General to lean on while he puts himself back together. Now, he’s leaving those pieces behind, carving himself away for the only cause that matters and instead of living in fear of the day there’s nothing left to give, he almost looks forward to it.

Cal surprises him by grabbing him roughly by the back of the neck and pressing their foreheads together. “I told you,” he says, low and angry, “we do this together. The _three_ of us. He’s _my_ Padawan. We _both_ failed him. And we’re going to get him back. Together.”

He _knows_ Cal is in his head even if he can’t feel him, and though he doesn’t have any idea how this bond between them even works, he thinks about death and pain and punishment and vengeance, throws those thoughts to the forefront of his mind and demands Cal understand. The hand on his neck tightens in promise. _Yes_ , it says. Cal understands what it is to lose everything. He understands that to Cody, Obi-Wan _is_ everything.

“Thanks, _vod’ika_ ,” Cody swallows the last of his tears and takes the strength Cal so willingly offers him. He tracks his gaze across Cal’s face, across freckles and blaster scars and that ridiculous scruff, and sees the journey he takes through pain and loss and hope.

“No one’s called me that in a long time,” Cal admits softly.

No, Cody knows. Not since someone called him Padawan.

Not since the world ended.

“They loved you,” Cody promises him. He doesn’t say that the troops of the 13th Iron Battalion would’ve gladly chosen death over living with the pain of betraying him.

Cody lets Cal pull away and angrily scrub at the tears that stain his cheeks. “I know,” he says. And that’s why it _still_ hurts.

He says no more on the subject. They’ve been having multiple conversations in one and their priority has to be Obi-Wan. “Did you trace his tracker?”

Cal sits up straighter, emotions shoved aside - or released into the Force - in favor of focus. He nods. “Yeah, but-” Cody figured there was a ‘but’. It’s Obi-Wan, and if this was straightforward there would be a lot more violence happening right now. “What do you remember?”

“Inyak stabbing us in the kriffing back,” Cody says before he can stop himself. Taking a steadying breath, he tries again. He knows how to delivers a gods damned report. “He got a comm. We thought it might be Chun.”

“You think he lied?”

Cody shakes his head slowly. “Xanatos found me at the exchange point - I think Inyak was always planning on handing us over directly to him. Maybe Chun took out the contract to keep OffWorld officially uninvolved?”

Cal looks thoughtful. “Who commed him? Your commlink was open. I heard some things, but not everything.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see him, and I didn’t recognize the language.”

“You remember the words?” He looks hopeful.

Cody wishes he did but can only shake his head. “No.” Pain wiped most of the encounter clean. He remembers Obi-Wan trying to protect him, remembers being _useless_ and... “Wait. Wait, he said something about Hunter’s Moon? That they’d like the kid there.”

“Yeah,” Cal sighs heavily. “I heard that.”

If he heard it, why is he still here? How hard can it be to find a karking moon?

“Well, where is it?” He pushes back the sheet keeping him tucked into the bed and tries to stand. His shoulder aches with every movement, but the fact that there even _is_ movement is a step in the right direction.

“No, hey-” Cal circles the bed and throws his arm around Cody to hold him steady. “Slow down. We’re looking. BD’s doing his thing in the Archives and Dooku’s working with the Council and-”

“Why is the tracker not working? What is the Hunter’s Moon?”

“A myth,” Cal admits, his eyes troubled. “No one knows how to find it, not even with a tracker, there's too much interference, and not unless you’ve been shown the way. Or-”

Or is good. He can work with an or.

He raises an eyebrow to prompt a continuation.

“Or,” Cal says slowly, “you can translate the few ancient texts that mention it.”

Cody blinks. “You’re telling me that no one in a literal building full of nerds can read the karking map?”

There’s something Cal isn’t saying. Something, he suspects, that is the _real_ reason for those circles around his eyes. “A few. Not many. The texts are forbidden. Dangerous. It’s not exactly a field of study that’s encouraged.”

“You’re killing me, kid,” Cody growls. Where the kriffing hells are his boots? And his shirt?

“Sojourn,” Cal says, as if that means anything to Cody, which...

“Why do I know that name?”

Cal shrugs. “Because it’s rumored to be the home of an ancient Sith fortress?”

Yeah. Cody sinks back down to the bed and puts his head in his hands as the implications crash over him. That sounds about kriffing right.


	14. Chapter 14

A small, dark gray hand sets a steaming bowl of stew on the table in front of Cody. The clatter of ceramic against transparisteel startles Cody out of the blank haze he’s been inhabiting and draws him rudely back to reality. Greez flashes him a bracing smile. “You need to keep your strength up,” he says, before promptly placing a second bowl in front of Cal.

“Thanks, Greez, but I’m not-” Cal starts to protest tiredly.

“Do as you’re told, kid,” Greez orders. “You’re literally getting skinnier every time I look at you. You think you’re gonna be in any condition to go toe to toe with a Sith like this?”

 _“Beep beep boop bop!”_ BD-1 pushes his little head under Cal’s arm and nudges it towards the bowl. Absently, Cal raises it and runs it gently across the droid’s back.

“Yeah, yeah, okay buddy.” He flashes Cody a resigned smile. Cody returns it, tipping the bowl in a little salute.

Jedi do that a lot, Cody’s noticed. Stop eating when they’re upset or stressed. His General is a nightmare for it. Cody’s metabolism runs at twice the speed; letting his emotions dictate the state of his diet isn’t an option. Trying to eat and use a datapad with only one arm, though... at least the stew is easy enough to work with. Greez is an excellent cook.

“This Sith you fought,” Dooku asks from his seat opposite, “tell us about him.”

This is their current situation: Cal, Cody, Cere and Greez, Master Windu, Master Yoda, and _Dooku._ All sat around a large round table in one of the Temple archive rooms. All trying to piece together the banthashite clusterfrick that is their current dilemma. They’ve spent hours going around in circles and Cody has not yet managed to regain the ability to control his temper. He hurts, he’s beyond tired, and Obi-Wan is still kriffing missing _._

“Why?” he asks Dooku, “looking for starting points?”

“Commander,” Windu admonishes. He’s the same stern, powerful man Cody knows, but unlike the future General Windu, this young Master has held his Council seat for less than a year. He’s not fully developed his icy stare yet. “I appreciate the difficult situation you’re in, but let’s try to keep things civil.”

Under the table, Cal taps his boot against Cody’s. Cody takes a deep breath and reminds himself that Anakin is eventually going to kill the treacherous _chakaar._ He settles back against his chair with a satisfied smirk and returns his attention to his meal.

“Darth Vader,” Cal nods, shuddering at the name. “I didn’t know who he was at the time. Which was probably a good thing,” he adds with a self-deprecating smile. “But I don’t think you can really say I fought him. He stabbed me in the chest, Cere saved my ass, and then I nearly drowned all three of us.”

“You got us out of there,” Cere says. She’s on Cal’s other side, close enough to reach over and squeeze his shoulder, her eyes bright with pride and affection. “Your quick thinking saved us all.”

“Right, Master Cere is,” Yoda says firmly. “Face a Sith Lord and live, few Jedi ever have.”

“Vader was new on the scene though,” Cere says thoughtfully. “No one I know had ever heard of him before the Purge.”

“Probably your replacement,” Cody says to Dooku with not a small amount of satisfaction. “Rule of Two and all.”

“You know an awful lot about the Sith for someone outside of the Order,” Dooku says mildly. He has a datapad illuminated in front of him and a steaming mug of tea in one hand, and there’s something _painful_ in his dignified, aristocratic presence.

“Says the man responsible,” Cody fires back coldly. “You want me to tell you how many times you try to murder the man we’re all sat here looking for? How you _hunt_ him? _Torture_ him? Do you want to know how many of my brothers you butcher?”

A wave of soft warmth washes over him, smoothing the edges of his sharp, brittle temper. Cal’s gaze is fixed on Dooku, his brow furrowed, but his attention is all Cody’s.

Cody sighs. He’s better at this. Or he was. He was the level headed one, the calm one, the foil to Rex and Wolfe and Bly. He kept his calm. He didn’t lose his temper. He was, in every way, the perfect match for the Negotiator. Without his General, it’s harder to remember who he was, let alone who he is.

A ripple of unease spreads through the room. Dooku’s future crimes aren’t the unspoken shadow in the corner, but the Council seems to be of the belief that they can't punish a man for crimes he has yet to commit.

Then, Dooku surprises him. “I apologize.” Cody blinks, dumbfounded, and Dooku continues. “Your reports of my future actions, indeed, Xanatos’s gleeful regurgitation of overheard retellings, fill me with a sorrow that I cannot quite find adequate words to express. It is no secret that I have my contentions with both the Republic, and with the High Council, but to know they - I - go as far as I do...” he shakes his head, his eyes troubled. “I do not know what leads me down that path, but it is clear that by following it I have caused you a great deal of pain. I am reluctant to beg your forgiveness, but I will endeavor to be less callous with my speech.”

It’s Cal who answers. Cody is grateful. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know where to even start.

“What you have done and what you might do isn’t really relevant right now,” Cal says softly. “Help us find Obi-Wan.”

Dooku looks at him for a long moment, then inclines his head regally. “I will do whatever I can.”

“Then that’s a start,” Cal nods. “But Master Dooku?” he waits until he is sure he has Dooku’s full attention before adding, “If it does turn out you are lying to us; if you lay so much as a finger on Obi-Wan? I will sit back and enjoy watching Cody tear you apart with his bare hands.”

Cody knows his cue; he grins, teeth bared.

“Gentlemen,” Windu clears his throat.

“Clear the air, they must,” Yoda hums, his eyes fixed on Dooku. “Threaten my Padawan, I would ask you not to do. Threaten a Sith Lord...” he trails off. Dooku nods more firmly this time, message received. Now, at least, he seems to respect Master Yoda enough to take the hint. Cody looks to Cal, expecting to see regret or embarrassment or maybe even reverence for Yoda. Cal, instead, raises a very pointed eyebrow at Dooku.

Cody kriffing loves him.

Revenge might not be the Jedi way, but no one has said anything about a pre-emptive strike.

Which... actually the Code _might_ say something about it, but the Code can, respectfully, kiss his ass.

“The Hunter’s Moon,” Windu says pointedly. “What do we know for sure?” Cody can almost hear him rolling his eyes in his head. A revered Jedi Master he might be, now and in the future, but Cody knows for a fact that the man has a sense of humor. For an entertaining night take two overworked Council members, add a low dose of prescribed myocaine and a bottle of _tihaar_ brewed in one of the engine rooms, then get them on the subject of politicians. Savage isn’t a strong enough word for it.

“Shit,” Greez whistles low, then freezes when he realizes he is the center of attention. “Sorry.”

“If you know something, Greez,” Cal prompts him earnestly.

“Only rumors,” Greez admits. “You know some of my, ahem, past acquaintances?” he hedges, waiting for Cal to nod. “One of ‘em swore blind he used to be part of this super-secret special unit, right? The Sun Guards? He said he used to do a lot of jobs on Sojourn.”

Cal starts to nod his head slowly. “The place they call the Hunters Moon. You think he was legit?”

Greez shrugs a little helplessly. “I mean, I don’t know? He sounded pretty convincing, but then he also swore he could talk to spiders so...” he holds up all four arms in a ‘who knows’ expression.

Talking to spiders would be the least strange thing Cody’s seen someone do in a long time. “What else did he say?”

“That it was creepy as hell? Back then the planet was owned by Damask Holdings, you know? The super-rich Muun dude.”

“Magister Hego Damask,” Dooku interjects dryly. “Head of Damask Holdings and prominent member of the Intergalactic Banking Clans.”

Cody turns an unimpressed frown on Windu and Yoda. “You mean to tell me a guy like that owns a planet that’s home to a Sith fortress and no one thought to check for a Darth Lord?”

Windu’s mouth twitches. “Commander, if we arrested every rich, influential person with a morbid fascination for the dark and despicable there’d be hardly anyone left in the Senate. We believed the Sith were extinct. We’d still believe it if not for your damning evidence to the contrary.”

Dooku mutters something under his breath, then speaks up more audibly. “Damask Holdings hosts an annual Gathering. A business summit and thinktank of the most powerful and influential figures in the galaxy. It’s highly exclusive. Very secretive. Its location is not publically disclosed. One could take a leap of logic and suspect that Sojourn might be it.”

“What’s that got to do with Obi-Wan?” Cody wants to know. “Assuming you’re _not_ a Sith-” he says to Dooku.

“Which I am not,” Dooku confirms.

“- and Xanatos was hoping you’d be his introduction to them, then how else would they even know to target Obi-Wan?”

“Certain you are, that this did not happen in your time?” Yoda asks.

Cody nods firmly. “Obi-Wan fights Darth Maul on Naboo when he’s twenty five. It’s the first time he said you knew of the Sith’s return.”

“We don’t actually know Damask Holdings has anything to do with the Sith,” Cere points out reasonably. “Master Windu is right, it could just be a bunch of politicians with no taste.”

Cody disagrees. “If it acts like a Sith and kidnaps children like a Sith,” he starts, only for Greez to raise several hands and clear his throat.

“There, um, is another possibility? I mean, it might be a Sith. I don’t actually know anything _about_ Sith-”

“The Sun Guards are a Sith cult,” Dooku adds, his voice dry and resolved.

Greez’s expression falls. “Oh, oh well yeah that does sound pretty Sith-y.”

“What other possibility?” Windu asks Greez.

“Well, er, I mean... these, er, gatherings? Not just for the fancy polished rich people. Not that they aren’t terrible! But uh, like Hutts and cartels... the Haxion Brood-”

“Hate those guys,” Cal mutters.

Greez looks sheepish. “Yeah, sorry kid,” he says. Cal flashes him a small smile and waves the apology away.

“So a party for the rich, powerful and morally ambiguous. Sounds fun,” Cere shakes her head.

Greez nods, far more serious than he’s yet looked. “Party needs entertainment. People like my... acquaintance... well, they, er, procured it.”

Cal looks at him sharply. “Entertainment like gladiator death fights with giant killer creatures? _Hungry_ giant killer creatures?”

“And the rest,” Greez looks a little green around the gills. “‘Orgy of debauchery, blood and ancient ritual’ was how he put it. Liked the exotic, they did. You know? Clones of extinct animals, rare slaves-”

"Jedi Padawan?" Cody stands abruptly and furiously battles the wave of nausea and dizziness that follows. No part of that sounds like something Obi-Wan needs to be within a hundred parsecs of.

And a lot of it sounds _exactly_ like the kind of ‘party’ a Sith might host. Hells, debauchery, blood, and ancient ritual sounds exactly like the kind of thing Maul might get up to on a weekend.

Kriffing hells! How has Obi-Wan landed himself in the middle of a mess so karked up that the potential Sith Lord attached to it might end up being the least of their worries?

“Tell me you’ve got a location,” he demands, shoving his hand against the table to stop them shaking.

“We don’t,” Dooku says, “but I might be able to get us the next best thing.”

“And what’s that?” Cody demands, the need to rip something apart boiling in his blood.

Dooku’s smile is eerily like Obi-Wan’s right before he steps up development on Cody’s latest stress ulcer. “An invitation.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's try add this to the RIGHT fic, shall we?! *facepalms*
> 
> I need more coffee. Or a nap. Or both.

Enter one Vox Chun.

Or rather; enter Cere’s brand new Padawan, Bruck Chun.

“The kid who helped Xanatos enter the Temple, kidnap Obi-Wan and try to blow up Master Yoda?” Cody looks to Cal for clarification, clearly still under the influence of the disproportionately high number of drugs the Healers keep chasing him with.

“Don’t,” Cal shakes his head, his expression somewhere between fond and worried. “They’ll be good for each other. Hopefully.”

“Attitudes like that are how I got shot,” he points at his arm, tries to raise his shoulder to make a point, then swears loudly until the urge to be sick leaves him. If he’s not yet mentioned it: he kriffing hates getting shot.

“You’ve mentioned it,” Cal grins. “Many times. If I could suggest _not_ getting shot as a way to avoid the ulcer you’re clearly brewing?” They're back in the rooms assigned to them while staying at the Temple, granted an hour to freshen up and prepare before their final briefing. Cal’s checking over his supply pack, growing more and more bewildered as he keeps finding and removing packs of candy. BD-1 nudges them back in again whenever he turns his back.

Cody, who is under strict orders to _sit down and stay still_ , is having to make do with scowling at a spot on the wall while Cal sees to his pack as well. He catches the little droid’s attention and raises a pointed eyebrow to indicate just how many scrap piles he will end up on if he messes with _Cody’s_ pack. BD tilts his head in an innocent expression that Cody knows better than to believe.

“Better me than the kid,” he grumbles. “But the next time I’m overcome with homicidal urges, you gotta-”

“I will let you shot all of the people on this mission,” Cal interjects soothingly. “You get first dibs on any -BD, buddy, no more candy - bad guys.”

Cody huffs. Feels a little better. And wonders when he started turning into Rex.

If the last plan was simple, foolproof and doomed from the start, this plan is complex, convoluted, and since it’s Dooku’s, will likely go off without a hitch just to kriffing spite him.

Bruck, who is apparently contrite and repentant for throwing his lot in with Xanatos helps them get to his father. Vox Chun, as Telos’s treasurer, exploits his contacts within the Intergalactic Banking Clans to score an invite to Hego Damask’s top-secret thinktank/sith murder party. That invite comes with concessions for an entourage, and that’s where Dooku comes into play.

Cody hates every single thing about it, starting with Dooku’s involvement and ending with the fact that neither he nor Cal can be part of the group going in with him and Chun.

Inyak will likely be there, which rules them out. Instead, they’re sending Cere to keep them in line.

Cal trusts her, and Cody trusts Cal, but -

“Relax,” Cal sets their packs down and circles around the table to the couch Cody is resting on. BD takes full advantage of his turned back. “Once Dooku lays the tracking co-ordinates, we’ll follow them down to the surface.”

“I don’t trust him,” Cody doesn’t even consider lying to make him feel better. “If the Sith really are there, Dooku will turn on us.”

“Probably,” Cal agrees, nodding his head. “But we’re gonna be ready for it. They’re our way in, nothing more. The second things go wrong, Cere’s gonna withdraw and we'll make our exit. All we have to do is find Obi-Wan before that happens.”

“Can you? Will you be able to feel him?” Anakin and Obi-Wan had always been able to sense one another, even more so than Anakin and Ashoka, but he knows from interaction with other Jedi teams that their bond was uncommonly robust. Cal’s bond with Obi-Wan is new and tentative, lacking the years of trust and experience that might add to its strength.

“I might not be able to feel him,” Cal admits, “but he will feel you. If he calls to you, I’ll hear it.”

That doesn’t make sense to Cody. He knows he understands only a fraction of the intricacies of Force bonds, and he can’t understand how that makes _his_ bond with Obi-Wan stronger than Cal’s. “He won’t sense you?”

“He might,” Cal shrugs, “but...” he rocks back on his heels and gives Cody a once over with his eyes. “You can’t see it, but he’s wrapped around you, parts of him tied up in parts of you, and I know that they’re not Obi-Wan’s, that they’re _his_ , but he can feel them too and it will feel like home, like safety.”

Cody’s breath catches in his throat. “His?”

“Did he ever bond with you?”

Cody shakes his head, his heart in his throat.

‘ _I’ve got you, Cody. Please, let me help. Let me in.’_

 _“_ He...” Cody’s mind wanders paths trodden long ago. “We were on a rescue mission on Ando. Things were kriffed from the second we touched down and I...” his unbandaged hand moves to his chest to hover over a wound he should never have survived. “I was injured. Badly. Lot of shrapnel. Lot of damage. He carried me back to camp. I was in shock, losing a lot of blood, and we’d lost all our supplies on landing. Our Medic had to dig shit out of me with his boot blade and fingers and the General, he-”

“He healed you?”

Cody shakes his head. “No. No, he just held me while they cut me open. He wanted to help and I wanted the pain to stop, so when he asked I said yes, and it all went away. Woke up a week later in the Med Bay, stitched up all neat. He never said anything about it, but-” but Anakin had walked headfirst into the doorframe when coming to visit, his expression shocked and a little exasperated. “Did he bond with me?”

“Not in the traditional sense,” Cal shakes his head, “but he formed a barrier between your consciousness and your body. It’s not something we tend to do with non-Force sensitives. It’s not impossible; it just feels...” he breaks off and shivers, “weird? But it might explain why he trusts you so easily as a kid. Even something temporary like that leaves a trace, however faint. You feel familiar to him.”

That, at least, makes a little sense, and it’s comforting. He _wants_ Obi-Wan to feel safe with him.

Something occurs to him. “Is that why I feel so...” he tries to find the right words and fails. Anxious? Terrified? Borderline psychotic? “worried about him? Why I’m going crazy just thinking about what he might be going through?”

Cal’s soft smile turns sympathetic. “That, buddy, is a combination of trauma, grief, guilt, and what I suspect is a highly overdeveloped need to fret like a mother tooka.”

Cody shoves him lightly, unable to stop a slight smile as Cal laughs and turns back to their packs. “Thanks.”

“Just tellin’ it how I see it. Tricks was the same.” He zips both packs and throws them over his shoulder, leaving space for BD to jump up and rest in his usual perch.

Cody hops - tentatively - off the couch and follows him to the door. “Your Captain?”

“He was a walking tension headache,” Cal says fondly. It’s the first time he’s offered up any kind of information about the clones he served with. It might even be the first time he’s talked about them at all. “My Master was the calmest person I ever met, but Tricks...” he shakes his head, his smile growing. “He worried about everything and everyone. I struggled a lot with my psychometry when I was first assigned to Master Tapal, and none of the troopers really understood what it meant. I had a bad echo during a firefight once, accidentally touched something I shouldn't have, and just fell apart. Tricks carried me back to the ship while Master Tapal led the fight. When I came back to myself we talked through the whole thing and he drew up this insane list of new regs that the whole Battalion had to follow.”

“He wanted to keep you safe,” Cody says gently, thinking of the fifty-eight point strategy he developed for dealing with his own recalcitrant, reckless Jedi and the way the entire 212th embraced it without hesitation.

“He stressed a lot,” Cal chuckles, “he actually got into arguments with Master Tapal about it. I hadn’t even realized you guys _could_ argue with us at that point.”

“Oh,” Cody says wryly, “we can. Didn’t happen often, but it happened.”

“You and Master Kenobi?”

“Only when he was being reckless with himself,” Cody says, “and they were less arguments than they were silent scowling matches, but they happened. Usually, it was me and Rex arguing. Or the General and Skywalker. Those two tore strips off each other even when they agreed on things. First time they really fought I thought they might actually kill one another.”

“I heard Skywalker was volatile,” Cal chuckles, leading the way back towards their makeshift Operations Room.

“Oh you have no idea,” Cody shakes his head. “Pity he’s not alive yet. If he was here and Obi-Wan was being held captive in a Sith fortress there’d be nothing left of the kriffing planet by the time he’d be done with it.”

Cal snorts. “That's our plan then? Chanel our inner Skywalkers?”

Cody shrugs and curses again as pain shots across his shoulder. “Not the worst thing we could aim for,” he admits.

Not the best, granted, but certainly not the worst.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *checks fic*
> 
> Yeah, I'm updating the right one this time! :D
> 
> Quick reminder! This story is now SUPER AU. I'm working my way through Legends and EU canon like a pick'n'mix selection! Enough things have been knocked off balance by the wrecking ball that is the Mantis crew that I am not going to be twisting myself into knots to explain absolutely every single tiny thing that has/will change unless it's relevant to the plot. If it is, we're absolutely going to dig into it at some point, though not necessarily during our first encounter. If it's not... 
> 
> What I am trying to say is; yes, I know it's not canon. We left canon in a field over there somewhere and are wadding into the unknown with the enthusiasm of a Skywalker and with BD-1's plucky hope that everything will turn out right in the end.
> 
> Now the boys have all had a nice little break from near-death experiences, healed up and bonded some more, so it's about time we mess with their heads a bit...

Sojourn is beautiful. They find it in the Carrion Sector, orbiting an unclassified planet. Cody’s done his fair share of travel in these parts over the course of the war, but he has no memory of the planet or any of its moons showing on their charts. He doesn’t think he’d forget something like this.

The fortress they're looking for, the rumored playground of the Sith, dominates the skyline as they set their small cruiser down on the moon’s surface. A grand, imposing structure, it towers over the endless forest that surrounds it. They’ve followed Dooku’s cruiser into the planet’s atmosphere, piggybacking off their landing signal in order to avoid detection, but they now have to land more than ten klicks away just to find space and cover.

It takes _three weeks_ for their plan to come together. Three weeks in which Cody does his physical therapy like a good trooper, takes his meds, carefully gets back into shape, and loses his kriffing mind.

He’s not alone. Cal looks to have stopped sleeping, swapping out rest for endless hours of meditation as he tries to reach out across the depths of space in search of his missing apprentice.

The only saving grace is that Dooku departs shortly after finalizing their plans and Cody doesn’t have to check himself every time he encounters the man. It’s hard, reclassifying an enemy to a potential ally and he wonders again how his General managed it so easily. Hondo, Ventress... the list was endless. Obi-Wan Kenobi believed firmly in redemption and he granted forgiveness far more easily than Cody thinks he ever shall.

But he bites his tongue, reminds himself that he’s survived Jedi banthashite for years now, and makes detailed plans for when - not if - everything goes to shit.

“May the Force be with you,” is batted around the cabin - the comm between the ground team of Cody, Cal, Mace Windu, and a young Knight Kit Fisto, and the infiltration unit of Dooku, Vox Chun and Cere crackling for one final time before going silent. Cody’s relieved to have Mace and Kit on hand; he’s seen them in combat, he knows how to work with them, and he knows they can look after themselves. He’s less thrilled with the inclusion of Chun, but Brock’s new status as Cere’s student will hopefully dissuade him from being too much of self-serving shleb.

The three weeks of waiting for Chun and Dooku to secure their invite has given Cody ample time to prepare for the mission. No plan survives its first encounter with the enemy, but the time has allowed him to lay out multiple scenarios they might contend with. It’s also allowed him to earn the ear of the Jedi he’ll be on the ground with. This is what Cody does best - better even than boots on the ground combat. He plans. He prepares. And he takes both of those things and creates something that can be implemented when everything around them is on fire.

Cal trusts his competence. Windu and Fisto respect his preparation. Now he just has to see it all pays off.

“Comms check,” he says, slipping calmly into pre-battle readiness as the three Jedi sound off. Neither Windu or Fisto are soldiers, not yet, but they seem to recognize the need for a soldier’s approach to this situation. The Jedi aren’t nearly prepared to wage war with the Sith, which means this is an extraction mission, not an invasion.

Dooku and Cere will gather intelligence within Demask’s fortress and will be in place if things go wrong.

Cody, Cal, Windu, and Fisto have the job of getting in, finding Obi-Wan, and getting back out again. All, ideally, without being noticed.

“Check in every hour,” Cody orders. “We don’t know where the package is, but if Greez’s intel is accurate then there’s as much a chance we need to be searching the grounds around the fortress as we do within its walls." He can sense their unease at the impersonal language Cody uses, but he needs it. This needs to just be another mission or Cody will lose his shit on first contact with the enemy. "Cal, Master Windu, you’ll circle east and west and work your way in. Knight Fisto and I will take the north and south.” They all nod as he goes over the plans one final time. “We don’t have eyes on the ground, so be prepared for anything. If they are using the area as a hunting ground then expect everything to be monitored.”

“And full of things that will want to eat us,” Cal adds dryly. He’s told Cody all about his encounter with the Haxion Brood and it will probably be a while before he’s willing to let that one slide.

“That too,” Cody agrees.

“Our priority is Kenobi,” Windu says. “But if we have the opportunity to prove the return of the Sith, we must take it. Preparing for future conflict will be a lot easier if we can prove their existence to the Senate.” And some of the Council, Cody imagines.

He nods. He understands their priorities, and he knows Jedi well enough to know that they will always put the preservation of life above the collection of knowledge. If they have to choose between saving Obi-Wan and gathering intel on the Sith, they’ll pick the boy. Cody can work with those parameters.

Cal claps him on his shoulder as they start to move out, well aware of the danger they are about to face.

“If you need me,” he says softly, “I will find you.”

Cody’s been given a collection of armor and clothing that is usually assigned to the Temple Guards. It’s lacking its ceremonial accouterments, the pieces more functional than formal, but he’s aware of the honor he’s been shown by being given the items he has. He knows the true meaning of armor on a level very few ever will.

“Let’s hope I don’t,” he says, checking his blaster and missing his DC-17. “Find him,” he says, clasping Cal’s forearm. “So long as he’s alive, I’ll keep him that way.”

Obi-Wan has been here a month. They’ve debated bringing a Healer, but the need for stealth and the potential for danger has limited their options. Cody’s not a field medic, but he knows his way around battlefield triage, and he’s patched his brothers up in the middle of battle more times than he likes to remember. There's a cruiser waiting for them just outside the system. They can have Obi-Wan there within an hour of boarding the shuttle.

“May the Force be with you.” Cal’s eyes are bright. Calm. Older than they were just a few short weeks ago, heavy with a very different kind of maturity and experience.

“You too, _vod’ika_.”

And off they go.

Everything about the moon’s surface is manufactured. The plants, the wildlife, all of it. Part forest, part jungle, part petting zoo. The terrain is easier to navigate than the jungles Cody’s fought in, and the mechanics of the space become quickly apparent to Cody as starts his sweep towards the fortress.

He’s spent most of his life in environments than want to kill him. He’s fought killer beasts on one side and carnivorous plants on the other, and while much of the forest carries that heavy, bloodsoaked tension, there’s something missing.

He very nearly loses his ankle to an invisible laser wire, escaping the injury purely by chance and scoring a burning gash into the fabric of his pants instead. And then it makes sense.

This is a playground, one built for sport and for terror, but the hunters don’t want to suffer the same fate as their prey. Everything is carefully designed to be as difficult and frightening as possible to someone lost, injured and running for their lives, but Cody would bet all the credits he owns that the hunters are equipped with tools that enable them to avoid the many traps and dangers that have been set.

He’s vindicated only an hour later. The group has checked in, each with their own report of something to avoid.

“ _Don’t touch the red plants,_ ” from Fisto, who sounds a little out of breath. " _Much acid_."

“ _The clicking noise that sounds like a crickbeetle? Not a crickbeetle,_ ” from Windu, who underlines each word with a silent curse that Cody can feel in his soul.

“ _I kriffing_ hate _Wyyyschokk_ ,” Cal snarls, and that’s good to know in a truly terrifying way because Cody doesn’t like giant man-eating spiders much himself. “ _This one was supposed to be extinct!_ ”

“The hunters are on the ground,” is Cody’s input, nudging the head of a human figure he’s just shot twice in the chest. It's wearing a digital eyemask that shorts out when Cody tries to put it on. “ _They’re well-armed, but I don’t think they’re all trained._ ” This one is too soft and moved too slowly.

Murder tourism. That’s what they’ve stepped in to.

If Dooku kills them all, maybe Cody might consider a real truce. Maybe.

But kriffing hells, he doesn’t know which is worse? That Obi-Wan might be out here, alone and trapped in this hell for a _month,_ or if he’s being held inside the fortress.

Out here he probably stands a chance, but gods...

A branch snaps behind him. Cody drops low, rifle swinging with the fluid turn of his body as he moves to put this new threat in his sights. Times like this leave only a split second in which to make the call: enemy, or ally. Cody pulls the trigger the instant he gets Jeran Aphax in his crosshairs.

So much for Inyak killing everyone onboard Galaxy Eighty-Six. Lying _shabuir._

His blaster bolt catches the psychic assassin in the chest, knocking him backwards, but there must be armor under his green utility shell suit because it doesn’t kriffing kill him.

Pain explodes behind Cody’s eyes and the forest around him blurs, trees fusing together into one wildly spinning green and brown mess, and Cody knows he can’t do what he wants to - can’t drop to the ground and anchor himself to stability - but he can’t stumble blindly forward either. If he stays here, Aphax might kill him. If he runs, something else almost certainly will.

_Kark!_

He aims into the vortex of colors, focuses on the spot he _thinks_ Aphax was sprawled, and fires.

A blue lade of light deflects the blast and the forest snaps violently back into focus.

And with it, the figure holding that familiar lightsaber.

Dressed in the strange bastardization of both Jedi robes and trooper armor, General Kenobi reaches up to push a wild strand of bronze hair from his brow, the wry smile that Cody would know in the dark curling up beneath his neatly trimmed beard. “I know you’re unhappy with this mission, Commander, but if you could refrain from shooting me until after we complete it, I’d be most grateful.” Soft lines crinkle around his bright eyes, a smudge of soot smeared across his nose, and he can’t be real, he can’t be...

But who else knows how very _fond_ Cody’s General’s eyes were when they looked at him? Who else knows the smile that made him so much more than just another commanding officer?

Cody’s never frozen in battle. Not once, not even as a shiny.

But he freezes now, horror rising in him a sickening wave as he realizes he has, once again, fired a weapon on Obi-Wan Kenobi.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have Hannah to thank for this chapter not being even more painful than it is. 
> 
> Additional warnings for psychic manipulation and major depression. Cody's not suicidal, but he's not as quick to try and save himself as he should be.
> 
> This one is going to hurt.

Cody hits his knees with a thud that would be painful if not for the icy wash of numb shock that crashes over him. His rifle falls from limp fingers, grief and horror wrenching a choked keen of pain from deep within his chest. It sounds - and feels - like something small and wounded is finally dying inside him, peace the ultimate gift after endless suffering.

It’s matched by a moan of equal misery, white armor striking the earth as a familiar figure hits the ground before him, knee to knee.

“Oh, my dear, dear Cody,” the pain in his General’s voice twists inside Cody’s chest, wringing something close to agony from beneath the blanket of numbness that’s fallen over him. “What have they done to you?”

He shakes his head brokenly. Nobody’s done this to him. This, all of it, is _his_ fault. At every point, every fork in the road, Cody has turned the wrong way. He’s lost his brothers, lost his purpose, and he’s lost Obi-Wan. Even the gifts he’s been given here in this new, painful timeline, are bitterly infected by the taint of his failure. Cal wears the shadow of the trauma he will never truly heal from, and Obi-Wan, at only thirteen, has seen more pain and terror than men three times his age. Both have their roots in Cody’s shortcomings, one direct, one indirect, and it doesn’t matter what he does from here on in, those scars will always be there.

How does he live with himself? How has he survived this long when so many have fallen because of him?

“Enough of that,” Obi-Wan scolds in that same soft, fondly exasperated tone he directs at people he believes are being deliberately obtuse. “Honestly, I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re taking the weight of the galaxy on to your shoulders.”

“You didn’t leave me,” Cody chokes. “I _killed you_.”

“You had me shot,” Obi-Wan says mildly. “If I took it personally every time that happened I’d have no friends left.”

He’s always tiptoed along a fine line with his humor, sometimes so blasé and thoughtless with himself that it hurts those around him.

This isn’t a joke! Cody _murdered_ him!

He tries to climb back to his feet, torn between the broken need to be as close to his General as possible and the furious demand for _space_ before he punches Obi-Wan right in that soft little smirk of his.

“Ah, ah,” Obi-Wan only has to touch his elbow for Cody to fold like a back sabacc hand. “Forgive me,” he whispers, drawing Cody close. “Forgive me.” He’s not a particularly tactile man, preferring words of comfort to physical gestures, but he folds Cody into a hug without hesitation. He’s done it with other brothers before, always away from prying eyes, a sixth sense for their misery and confusion as he takes them into his arms and calms them with a warm embrace and a soothing wash of the Force.

Their scarcity makes them things to be hoarded jealously, treasured and cherished, and for once there aren’t a million and one things to be done. There’s no claxon of an impending battle, no data work, no conference call... there’s nothing in the world beyond this little bubble. They have all the time in the world, and Cody doesn’t need to share Obi-Wan with anyone. He can be selfish. He can cling to this comfort, even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it.

Obi-Wan believes in redemption. He forgives those who ask for it.

The words fall out of his mouth in his haste to speak them. “I’m sorry. I’m _sorry_. Forgive me, please, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to, I didn’t-”

“Hush, it’s alright, it’s alright.” Obi-Wan presses Cody’s head into his shoulder and holds him tightly. “I forgive you.” They’re simple words with the most complicated of meanings, and the moment they touch Cody’s heart they unearth something fragile and hidden, something he’s kept locked away tightly behind durasteel walls.

They’re the words he’s wanted so desperately to hear but would only ever believe from one man. Now he has them, his broken heart doesn’t know what to do with them.

“It’s alright, Cody,” Obi-Wan promises him. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

And he has. Cody’s safe for the first time in years, held in the arms of the one man in the galaxy that he knows can fix anything. There’s no problem too big, no odds too great, no terror too unsurmountable, not for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“You’ve been so strong, so brave,” Obi-Wan hums, the curve of his palm cupping the back of Cody’s head, holding him with the same tenderness and care he’d show the youngest and smallest and most frightened of brothers. “And alone for so long.”

He doesn’t want to cry, terrified that if he starts he’s never going to stop, a nagging sense in the back of his mind screaming at him that giving in and showing all of his broken parts is _dangerous._

But then Obi-Wan says, “I’m so proud of you,” and he’s _gone_.

And crying is supposed to be cathartic, it’s supposed to be a release, but it just _hurts_. It hurts, and he can’t stop, can’t breathe and he’s never been so weak, so pathetic, so broken in all his life.

“You don’t have to be alone, not anymore. You can stay with me. Stay with me, Cody. You’ve always looked after me, let me look after you.”

He’s tried to. From the minute he was decanted he _knew_ he belonged at someone’s side. It took him years to find Obi-Wan, and he’s lived without him for far longer than he’s been beside him. But breathing is easier. Thinking is easier. And the idea of living through another day doesn’t hurt half as much.

“Just close your eyes. Close your eyes. That’s it.” His voice is hypnotic, that crisp, cultured Coruscanti accent turning slow and thick and Cody is _so tired_. He’s been exhausted all his kriffing life and he knows Obi-Wan is the same and this... this is how they coped sometimes, isn’t it? The two of them hiding someplace quiet, someplace secluded, someplace they can both just be Cody and Obi-Wan and kriffing _rest_.

They’ve not done this since before Utapau. Not had the time. Not had the chance.

Cody’s lungs are on _fire_.

He needs to get back. He has things to do. Requisitions to file. A Captain to reprimand. So much datawork...

A child to find?

No. No, there aren’t any children here, the General feels strongly enough about Ashoka as it is.

Where the kriffing hells _are_ they?

“Cody,” Obi-Wan’s hand tightens on his neck. “Stay with me. Focus on me.”

_“Cody!”_

Cody couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He doesn’t. He wants to stay here forever, his General’s arms holding him tighter and tighter and tighter-

“ _Cody, please!_ ” The echo of a frightened, frantic voice rings hollow in his mind. He knows that voice, he does, only... “ _Cody! You have to wake up!_ ”

“Shush, don’t pay attention. Listen to me. Stay with me. You want to stay with me, remember?”

And he does, more than anything _, but that voice..._

_“Cut him loose!”_

_“I’m trying!”_

_“Cody!”_

He’s never heard anyone sound so scared before. Not for him. The General isn’t moving, isn’t trying to help the owner of that young, frightened voice, and that’s wrong. Cody wants to help, and he’s the level headed one. The one who puts caution before compassion, even when it kills him. Obi-Wan isn’t capable of hearing that kind of distress and _not_ trying to intervene.

But he is, and he’s not, and-

The arms around Cody are no longer arms. It’s not his tears that are making it hard to breathe, but the thick, ropey coil of a vine as wide as a man’s forearm that’s winding around his throat. There are more vines around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides, and that warm embrace is a _kriffing_ death grip.

Obi-Wan, his General, fades as if though were never there, little more than a figment of Cody’s desperate imagination.

There’s no sign of Aphax, but he knows in his battered heart what has happened.

That kriffing shabuir tore into his mind, stole the one thing he holds most precious, and used it to leave Cody trapped and vulnerable in a vile web of his own grief.

The horror of it leaves his head spinning, the urge to claw out his own treacherous brain colliding with his inability to breathe and leaving him praying for the kriffing plant to just do its job and _kill him already_.

In his General's place, looking like he’s clawed himself from the bowels of hell, Cal’s thirteen-year-old Padawan tugs at the vine slowly choking Cody to death. He’s managed to get his fingers between the crushing coils and Cody’s throat, that tiny pocket of space the only thing keeping Cody alive.

Something red flashes past his gaze. He thinks it's the capillaries in his eyes going, the pressure unbearable.

But it’s not. A small Zabrack boy with red skin and yellow eyes hurls himself against Cody, taking a spot beside the teenage Jedi and stabbing into the coiling vine with the blade Cody stashed in his boot.

Something above them shrieks. Cody’s glad he can’t move and he really, really doesn’t want to see what’s attached to the end of these vines.

“That’s it! Do it again!” Obi-Wan, thirteen and furious, holds Cody upright with bloody fingers and the brute strength born of pure adrenaline, while the other boy stabs and hacks with angry, violent precision.

With one brutal hit, the blade slices deep and the vines uncoil themselves from Cody, writhing and tangled as they recoil back into the treetop.

Cody sucks in a deep breath as the world around him spins violently out of focus, then wraps an arm around each of the boys and tackles them down as dozen more vines fall on them from above. A giant, hulking mass emerges from within the snapping, snake-like appendages, full of teeth and spitting sticky, smoking bile on the ground below.

Keeping himself crouched protectively over the two children, Cody snatches up his abandoned rifle and unloads an entire magazine into that carnivorous mouth.

He hates this _kriffing_ planet, and he hates... he _hates_...

‘ _I forgive you.’_

The beast makes a final keening wail, shuddering and flailing before finally falling limp and still onto the ground.

Trying to breathe again makes his eyes stream and his throat burn, and better that excuse than his pitiful breakdown before.

Curled over his knees, Cody coughs and chokes and tries to find focus within the spiral of colors flashing before his eyes.

Small, bloody fingers grasp at his arms, baring as much of his weight as they can. Obi-Wan’s blue eyes, free of the lines of stress and age, almost drowning in terror and pain, fix him with a look that’s impossible to refuse.

His ad’ika needs him. Cody _found_ him.

“It’s okay,” Obi-wan whispers, his voice soft and broken and his hands trembling against Cody’s arm. “I got you.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that surprise I threw into the last chapter? 
> 
> Here's two more!
> 
> Don't worry, you will get some answers soon! Until then, have some hugs! 
> 
> Warnings for the mistreatment of children - it's more graphic than it has been so far.

It takes Cody longer than he’s proud to admit before he’s capable of wrapping his arm around Obi-Wan’s trembling shoulders and pulling the boy in close. He reeks of battle - of sweat and blood and terror and Cody is just able to choke out a call to the landing team of “I found him,” before a surge of adrenaline collides with his relief and he clutches Obi-Wan tighter. “I found you,” he whispers the words into the boy’s hair, feels the tremor running through him and _knows_ how hard Obi-Wan is trying not to cling to him and cry.

“I thought you were dead,” Obi-Wan whispers. “I thought you were dead because of me! Because I convinced you to go ahead with the plan and-” 

Cody’s upright and on his knees so fast he risks whiplash. “You are _not_ to blame,” he growls, hands braced on either of the boy’s boney shoulders. “None of this is your fault. Tell me you understand that.” He’s angrier than he means to be, frantic and desperate and Obi-Wan’s bottom lip trembles so hard _Cody_ is going to cry again. He pulls the boy back against his chest and forces himself to be calm. “I failed you. Forgive me.”

“I got you shot,” Obi-Wan whimpers.

“I got you kidnapped,” Cody fires back.

“Obi?”

Obi-Wan squirms free of Cody’s grasp, released with great reluctance to scurry over to the small boy who helped Cody escape the murder vines.

He might be leaping to conclusions here, but so far the Force seems to be having a great time messing with Cody’s entire state of being so it might not be too big a stretch of logic to assume that...

“Who’s your friend?” he asks, forcing himself to sound calm and in control when really, all he wants to do is look up at the sky and scream ‘ _are you kriffing kidding me?_ ’ at Obi-Wan’s beloved Force.

The Zabrack boy is small, his head barely reaching Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and he’s badly malnourished. Cody can see the bones of his ribs pressing against the thin, torn fabric of his tunic and his thin, twig-like wrists are weighed down with crude, cruel-looking cuffs. There’s a matching set on Obi-Wan that Cody almost misses under the sheer amount of blood clinging to the child’s skin.

They’re both wearing Force suppressant collars.

“This is Maul,” Obi-Wan says, wrapping a protective arm around the small boy’s shoulders. The look in his eyes wouldn’t be out of place on a battlefield and when he firmly announces, “he’s coming with us,” it’s only his internal scream of frustration that cancels out Cody's need to snap his heels and salute.

Okay. That’s fine. The small angry murder child is coming with them. They’ve already recruited one future Sith Lord, why not make it a set?

Some of Cody’s dislike softens when Maul - and gods, he can’t be any older than ten - presses into Obi-Wan’s side and all but hides behind him. He looks as frightened as Obi-Wan feels.

And knowing the boy the way he does? Cody’s willing to bet Maul is the reason the child is holding up as well as he is. Obi-Wan Kenobi is never more ferocious than when he’s standing between an innocent and harm.

And really, is there anything Maul can have done at this tender age that disqualifies him from any right to that protection?

“Fine by me.”

“There, erm, are more?” Obi-Wan’s determination slips a little in the face of Cody’s acceptance.

“More? Children?”

Oh, he knows where this is going...

“Inside,” he says, holding Maul tightly.

What _is_ this place?

For all their planning, Cody’s not in any way prepared to face the reality of what is happening on this cursed rock.

“You know I need to get you somewhere safe first?” He’s prepared to argue with the boy if he has to. He’s prepared to drag him kicking and screaming back to the ship. He’s not prepared for the tears to start rolling down Obi-Wan’s cheek, silently and without fanfare.

“You don’t know what it’s like in there,” he whispers. And that’s true, he doesn’t, which is all the more reason to run as far as they can in the opposite direction. Maul makes a low, whimpering whine, a pained, frightened sound that cuts through Cody’s heart, and hides his face even deeper into Obi-Wan’s side. “You’re not going back,” Obi-Wan whispers fiercely to him. “Never. I won’t ever let them take you back. But we can’t leave the others.”

They can. They won’t, but they can. They _should_.

Cody approaches them both slowly before going down to one knee, closer to eye level now instead of towering over the frightened child.

“My name is Cody,” he says, remembering to be soft.

Maul barely peeks out from behind Obi-Wan’s bloody and tattered tunic. This close, Cody can see the mottled discoloration around the child’s ankles. He shouldn’t be walking. Neither of them should be walking. Cody needs to get them somewhere defensible and he needs to know what kind of damage he's dealing with. There's so much blood... it can't all be theirs, surely?

“We’re going to take you both somewhere safe, okay?”

“You can trust Cody,” Obi-Wan says earnestly. “He will never, ever hurt you.”

One of these days Cody’s just going to hand Obi-Wan his heart just to save him the trouble of having to go through bone every time he stabs him in it.

The world around them abruptly becomes far too still and quiet. The ambient sounds of the forest fading away, replaced by something oppressive and silent and _wrong_. 

Cody moves slowly, reaching for his rifle, making no sudden moves in fear of startling another preditor.

There’s something behind him. Obi-Wan lets out a choked, frightened noise and tries to hide Maul behind himself. Maul, sounding like a wounded animal caught in a trap, lets out a high pitched screech and almost tries to climb up Obi-Wan's arm in a bid to hide.

That’s distraction enough. Cody rolls, raises his weapon, gets his target in sight and -

Aphax’s head flies clean of his shoulders with one brutal swing of a lightsaber.

Cody starts to relax, fully expecting to see Cal’s furious face as Aphax’s lifeless body topples to the ground.

Behind him, Obi-Wan lets out a choked cry of broken relief. “ _Master_!”

“Obi-Wan!”

Cody moves without thinking, stepping out of the way to allow a tall robed figure to charge to Obi-Wan’s side. The instant he does, Obi-Wan folds in on himself, exhaustion giving way in the face of someone he trusts so implicitly. Cody hangs back, lets them have their moment, and doesn’t know what to feel when Obi-wan falls into a protective embrace and weeps into the shoulder of Qui-Gon Jinn.

A second figure emerges from the foliage, the swirling green sparks of her power casting aside anything that gets in her way.

Maul, still clinging to the side of Obi-Wan’s tunic, looks up at what must be the familiar robes and comforting authority of a Nightsister in her prime and throws himself at Merrin’s feet, words Cody doesn’t understand tumbling from his lips between broken, pleading sobs.

Merrin falls to her knees, tears streaming from her glowing eyes as she reaches out and touches the child’s bloody shoulder. She answers him in their shared tongue and a moment later Cody is all the watch they have left as two traumatized children cling to the safest points of contact that they know.

He lifts his weapon high, senses turned out to the surrounding area, and watches their back the way he’s been trained to do all his life.

He can't do much right, but he can surely manage this.

Cody doesn’t know how Jinn and Merrin have found themselves here - a conscious decision was made not to interrupt their mission with news of Obi-Wan’s abduction - but looking at the heartbroken fury in the Jedi Master’s eyes and the crackling power pouring from the Nightsister, Cody suddenly feels a surprising strike of pity for the people on this planet.

The Sith aren’t going to know what hit them.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some cuddles! Some poor life choices! Merrin being a BAMF!
> 
> Team Good Guy is slowly assembling! What could go wrong? They just need to get the WHOLE team together...
> 
> Unrelated, Hannah is to blame for what might be the darkest, most painful Obi-Wan, Vader and Cal angstfest ever... if that's something that might interest you...

It becomes obvious within minutes of Jinn and Merrin’s arrival that Obi-Wan is exhausted. Within moments of falling, weeping, into the Jedi Master’s arms, Obi-Wan is lax with unconsciousness, his matted, bloody head falling to rest on Jinn’s shoulder. The big Jedi is careful as he shrugs out of his robe, likely more from fear of causing pain than of waking Obi-Wan up. How much rest will he have gotten these past few weeks? Cody thinks of Cal, who has barely scraped a few hours here and there, and imagines the boy has done what he used to get into _so_ much trouble with the Healers for doing as an adult.

Cody’s General learned how to support his need for sleep, food, and water with liberal assistance from the Force. He learned because the great Master Qui-Gon Jinn would so frequently forget that teenage boys are not houseplants you only need to tend once a week. He learned because being a burden to his beloved Master would leave him close to panic, his fear of failure and weakness ironically manifesting themselves into a chronic condition that would occasionally see him collapse into Cody’s arms after weeks and weeks of relentless campaigns.

Cody’s General taught himself not to _need_ for fear of being _needy_.

The child before him now seems to have learned the same lesson in a very different way, neglect exchanged for brutality. Looking at him now, Cody can’t say it’s a good trade.

Jinn bundles the boy in his robe, gently tucking it around his small body before beckoning Cody closer. “I can defend us better with a lightsaber than you can a blaster.” There’s nothing cruel or unkind about the words, and Cody knows they’re true. He nods, shoulders his weapon and gratefully accepts Obi-Wan into his arms.

On the ground, Merrin has a wailing Maul wrapped almost as tightly around her as the vines had entwined Cody. She doesn’t even try to untangle him and his small, malnourished form is less of a burden to her than a child his age would normally be.

“How did you find us?” Cody asks. Jinn has yet to step back, instead making sure Obi-Wan is tucked carefully into the folds of his robe.

“Purely by coincidence,” Jinn shakes his head, his gaze troubled as he continues to fuss. “We made contact with Merrin’s people but in order to secure negotiations with their leadership we were asked to rescue a boy who had been given to the Sith some years ago.” He looks across at Maul, sorrow worn heavily on his face. Cody has only ever known the worst of Maul and even he’s stirred to pity at the wrecked and abused child. To know he’s been in Sith hands for years...

He’s torn between fear that it is too late to save him, knowledge of what he might go on to do to Obi-Wan, and sorrow for all that he has suffered. The General would take him in without hesitation. Cody needs to find a way to embody that compassion without embracing the man’s recklessly suicidal kindness.

“It took us some weeks to follow our leads here,” Jinn continues. “I certainly didn’t expect to find you. And Obi-Wan...” he runs a gentle hand over the boy’s bloody cheek. “What happened to him?”

Cody explains - or tries to explain - the events of the past month, noting the flash of anger and displeasure that shoots across Jinn’s expression. He wonders how much the man resents the Council for their choices. If Obi-Wan were still his Padawan, none of this would have happened. Cody doesn’t need him to verbalize the thoughts; he’s right there with him. And he knows Cal is as well.

“So we’ve got the three of us, Cal, Windu, Fisto, Cere and Dooku on the ground,” Cody finishes his report. “The plan was to get in and out again without being detected.”

It hasn’t accounted for the state they’ve found Obi-Wan in, nor the presence of other children on the planet. The Jedi won’t leave them behind, not now, which means they need to regroup.

It won’t be long before the rest of the Ground Team converge on his position. They know he’s found Obi-Wan which means Cal, at least, will be headed for them at high speed.

It’s actually Kit Fisto who arrives first. He takes one look at Merrin and Qui-Gon, nods his head as though their presence is perfectly reasonable, and greets them both politely.

“Hello, Kit,” Jinn responds just as pleasantly. The fact that they are in the middle of a Sith sponsored death trap seems neither here nor there to either of them.

“Qui-Gon. How’s Obi-Wan?”

“Alive,” Jinn says grimly. “But badly hurt.”

Fisto nods his head, the sleek green tentacles that curled over his shoulders trembling sorrowfully. The Fisto Cody remembers had always had a soft spot for Obi-Wan. Many of the Jedi did, the Council especially. It always confused Cody when the people who so obviously cared desperately for his General were the first to throw him into harm’s way.

“Merrin?” Cal skids into the clearing, lightsaber in hand but powered down. He, unlike Fisto, is not the embodiment of calm.

“Cal!” Merrin’s whole expression lights up in Cal’s presence, her amber eyes almost glowing. She’s on her feet, Maul still clutched in her arms, and barrelling into his arms the second she sees him. He catches her, holds her as best he can while accommodating the clinging child in her arms, and Cody doesn’t envy him a second of the conflict he faces when torn between the comfort of his friend and checking on his Padawan.

As abruptly as she throws herself at Cal, Merrin steps back. “Sorry, sorry,” she mutters, visibly embarrassed. Maul, who is both far too young to have any idea what’s going on between the two of them and likely too feral to even start to process it, bares his teeth and snarls at Cal.

Merrin hushes him, soothes his anger with soft words in their shared tongue, and he settles. It doesn’t stop him glaring at Cal over her shoulder and Cody files that away to be used either as valuable intel or mockery, depending on the level of attempted murder that follows.

“Master Jinn? What are you guys doing here?” Cal turns wide eyes between Jinn and Obi-Wan before reaching out and touching the sleeping boy’s cheek.

Obi-Wan stirs, blinks open his eyes and weakly says, “I think we failed our first mission, Master,” like the reckless little _shite_ Cody knows him to be.

Cal’s answering laugh is more of a choked sob. “Hey, we gotta leave room for improvement, right?” Obi-Wan smiles tiredly. Surrounded by people he trusts to protect him, he’s finally doing what Cody _wants_ , and is letting someone else take the responsibility. If this has taught him nothing else...

No. _No_. He’s spent three weeks being tortured by Sith and hunted for sport. Three weeks cut off from the Force. Cody has no right to even try and find a silver lining in this. Obi-Wan is _thirteen_.

Which reminds Cody... “Can you get the collar off?” Cal is always tinkering with something, but it’s BD-1 who pops up over his shoulder and lets out a shrill string of expletives. “I know! Can you get it off him?”

Even half-conscious, Obi-Wan manages to look scandalized by BD's language.

Cal shoots Merrin a glance, jerking his chin at the trees. She nods, setting Maul down, swapping his death grip on her neck for one on her leg. “Sisters, lend me your strength...” her first few words are understandable, but soon she switches to Dathamirian and her meaning gets lost. The air around her grows heavy and heated as the branches in the trees start to reach out, coiling and curling together. Cody tenses, half expecting one to try and kill him again, but instead they only join to form a thick, towering perimeter around them. It’ll be easy enough to get out - or in - with a lightsaber, but for now, they have some protection from both the hunters and the forest’s many traps.

“That,” Fisto says cheerfully, “was very impressive.”

Cody’s got to agree. First chance he gets he’s throwing her at a Sith.

Setting Obi-Wan down on the forest floor, careful to ensure he’s still wrapped in Jinn’s robe, Cody braces him against his chest to allow BD-1’s scomp link to work on removing the collar around his neck. Obi-Wan rests his cheek on Cody’s shoulder, his eyes heavy-lidded and out of focus as Cal’s hand gently brushes his hair back away from his brow, his steady, careful fingers searching out any indications of a head injury.

“What did they do to you, Obi-Wan?” Jinn’s gentle encouragement carries no expectation or demand, but Obi-Wan still flinches into Cody’s shoulder.

“I’d say that’s obvious,” Cody mutters under his breath. The boy’s been tortured, that much is clear.

Obi-Wan’s mouth opens and closes, tears filling his eyes. He looks at each of them in turn, trying each time to form the right words. Cody can feel the terror rolling off him in waves but all he can do is hold him.

Then Cal kneels beside them. He puts one hand on the back of Cody’s neck and holds the other out for Obi-Wan.

Cal doesn’t ask Cody’s permission for this. He knows he already has it, just as he knows it’s going to be a different experience for both of them. Cal’s psychometry can answer the question Obi-Wan doesn’t have the words to explain. He can shoulder that experience with his Padawan and lend Obi-Wan the full weight of his understanding. Cody can do neither, lacking both the skills and the power to be anything but a passive passenger in the psychic field trip Cal is proposing. What he _can_ do, what he offers willingly, is lend them his strength. He can be their anchor when the fear and the pain becomes too much. Whatever Obi-Wan has suffered, Cody is ready and willing to help.

Obi-Wan is cautious though. His lip trembles - _kark_ , his whole body trembles - and for all that he’s clearly desperate for Cal’s understanding and support, the idea obviously terrifies him.

“I won’t take it from you,” Cal whispers. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Your hurts are your own, but I can help you bear the weight of them if you’ll let me.”

The collar unlatches. Obi-Wan scrabbles to remove it, his eyes rolling as he touches the Force for the first time in weeks. Cody has no frame of reference, but it looks like Obi-Wan is breathing for the first time in his life, taking great gulps of air like an addict indulging in a hit.

“Careful, Obi-Wan,” Jinn warns him. He and Fisto bracket them on either side, wrapping them all in a blanketing sense of calm and safety.

Obi-Wan shudders, then finally slumps back against Cody. He clutches the collar tightly, hesitates, then holds it out to Cal.

Cal squeezes the back of Cody’s neck, then without hesitation, takes the collar in his hand.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR TISSUE WARNING AHEAD!
> 
> There's some semi graphic details of torture and its aftermath. Plagueis was somewhat notorious for performing experiments on his captives. Since this is Cody's POV that buys us a little distance and most is left to your interpretation, but it's still pretty dark. There's also the most epic hug of the series yet, so...
> 
> For everyone wanting to know if Cody is ever going to learn the truth about what happened on Utapau... I would normally not answer that (because I am mean!) but in light of this chapter's content.... yes. He will. Not saying WHEN. But he will learn the truth. Poor guy. 
> 
> Final warning! I NEVER cry when writing (mostly because I am a soulless monster) :D But I might have come close here...
> 
> P.S I am so sorry I am so behind on comments! I'll try catch up this week!

Cody’s doesn’t see what Cal sees, doesn’t walk paths already followed and doesn’t pay witness to Obi-Wan’s pain.

But he feels it. Gods, he _feels_ it.

And maybe he hears it? There’s a scream that echoes in his mind. A sound of pure, undiluted terror and unfathomable pain.

Aphax’s psychic attack left him feeling unclean and violated, his mind and his memories pick apart and turned against him. This feels like that. It feels _worse_. It feels as though darkness has been poured into his veins, has dragged him beneath the surface of an impossibly dark lake and held him there until the darkness trickled down his throat and into his lungs - not to kill him, nothing so merciful. He can’t breathe and he can’t think and that darkness has engulfed him completely. Shadowed fingers move under his skin, touching muscle and bone, playing with tightly drawn tendons like they’re the strings of an instrument. It takes him apart piece by piece and puts him back together again. Then the darkness offers him respite, freedom from the soul-deep agony. He only has to choose who takes his place. He opens his eyes, sees the little Zabrack boy in his chains and feels the slowly weeping wound in the meat of his shoulder from where the child tried to rip out his throat with his teeth. _Pick him and I’ll let you rest._

He remembers sitting by the side of a man who fell from the sky, who has held him and protected him and spat blood in the eye of anyone who looked at him wrong. He remembers falling asleep against that man’s shoulder, remembers his Master tucking a blanket over the both of them. He remembers safe. He remembers love. “ _Usenye!”_ he snarls, finding a strength in the language his stalwart guardian has taught him.

“ _As you wish, child._ ”

The pain returns. Worse. So much worse. He didn’t know it was possible to hurt this much, to feel so desecrated in mind and body and soul and-

It’s Cal who is screaming.

It’s _Cody_ who is screaming.

Shards of green power strike out into the darkness. Cal drops the collar a second before it dissolves into nothingness, and the two of them fall sideways to strike the ground, neither of them able to breathe without a long moment of panic twisting his insides.

Cody’s never going to feel warm again. Gods, he's never going to feel _clean_ again.

Then Obi-Wan whispers a broken, “I’m sorry.” Cody and Cal move as one being. Cody hauls Obi-Wan into his chest, wraps both arms around him, rests his cheek against the top of his bloody head and rocks them gently. Cal folds his long, lanky body over the both of them, his arms encircling Cody’s shoulders. Tear tracks have cut streaks of clean pink skin through the dirt on his face and he looks as terrible as Cody feels. Shattered. Devastated. _Heartbroken._

“You got nothing to apologize for, _ad’ika_ ,” Cody chokes. “You’re the bravest man I’ve ever met.”

“Obi is brave,” Maul’s tentative little voice is thick and stuffy from the force of his crying but he reaches out his hand and wraps Obi-Wan’s robe around his fist regardless.

“Maul is brave, too.” Obi-Wan’s voice is muffled against Cody’s shoulder. Reluctantly, they both ease off to give him some room, surprised when he doesn’t make any attempt to extract himself from Cody’s arms.

“And really good at biting things,” Cal says a little wryly. He searches out the wound on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and gently rests his palm over it. "BD?" There's an affirmative beep before a green stim is flying into Cal's hand and being injected into Obi-Wan's arm. He's far beyond a stim getting him back on his feet, but the wash of painkillers soothes some of the lines of pain between his eyes. "There you go. Better?"

“Etay etoojai!” Maul hisses, his eyes flashing as they follow the empty stim canister.

Cal holds up his hands. "It's not hurting him, see?"

Maul snarls, a wild beast barely held in check by Merrin, who blinks her eyes in rapid bewilderment. “He does not like you, Cal.” She looks puzzled.

“ _Zeep boop beep_!” BD-1 bounces towards Maul in defense of his human.

Maul, in response, snatches up a rock and hurls it at the droid, who shrieks and launches himself onto Cal’s back before letting out a string of expletives in Maul’s direction. Cody doesn’t think the boy speaks binary, but he can probably get the idea.

“Okay, let’s focus, shall we?” Jinn's soothing baritone sounds across the assembling battlefield.

With Cal wrestling a furious BD and Cody unwilling to do anything but cuddle Obi-Wan - something Obi-Wan seems to be perfectly okay with - it makes sense that the Jedi Master is taking control of the situation.

“Cody?”

He ignores the unfolding chaos and focuses all his attention on Obi-Wan. “Yeah, _ad’ika_?”

“You really came for me?” He can barely keep his eyes open, his limbs heavy and limp, but he lays trustingly against Cody’s chest, curled into a body Cody hopes he knows was built with the sole purpose of protecting him.

“I’ll always come for you,” Cody swears.

“Because of your General?” It seems like a lifetime ago that Cody shared stories of the man Obi-Wan was with the boy he currently is. So much has changed. So much might still change. They came back without a goal or direction, just the aching need to protect the one person Cody knows for a fact he can’t exist without. He’s not done such a great job there, but Obi-Wan is here, now, and Cody can’t actually think of another time when he’s been so grateful to be alive.

“Because Master Yoda meditated for a solid week, hoping to find you,” Cody says. “Because Master Windu broke three training droids in an attempt to focus his worry for you into something productive. Because Cal stopped sleeping to do his own meditations and would’ve forgotten to eat if Greez didn’t chase him with food. Because Cere feared what they were doing to you. Because it would break Master Jinn’s heart if you were hurt. Because I...” Cody’s voice breaks. “ _Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad_.”

He knows Obi-Wan won’t understand the words, not yet, and even if he does he lacks the cultural context to truly see their meaning.

“I’ve fought a thousand battles, Obi-Wan,” Cody whispers. “If I tried to say the names of all those I’ve lost I’d lose my voice long before I ran out of words. I was born - I was _made_ \- to be a soldier. To keep my head despite unbeatable odds. To face death without hesitation.” He gently presses their foreheads together just as he does with Cal. “And I have _never_ known fear like I have known it these past few weeks.”

Obi-Wan’s face crumples into a broken, confused, miserable frown. “But you don’t know me. I’m not what you think I am.”

Cody’s first instinct is to set him right. To tell him that he knows _exactly_ who Obi-Wan is and why that makes him someone not just worthy of Cody’s love, but worthy of _everything_.

Only, well... he _does_ know Obi-Wan.

“And what are you?” Cody asks him.

“I’m not even a Jedi,” Obi-Wan sniffs, starting to cry.

“You offered your life in exchange for mine,” Cody reminds him. “You survived weeks of torment, rescued someone in need - saved my life _again_ and thanks for that. If a Jedi is selfless, brave, honest and true, how are you _not_ a Jedi?”

If anything, that only makes Obi-Wan cry harder. Cody’s distantly aware of the silence that’s now surrounding them but doesn’t give a _kriff_. Short of a Sith Lord manifesting in their secure little clearing, nothing is distracting him from the child in his arms.

“I begged him to stop,” Obi-Wan weeps. “It hurt so much and I begged him. I _broke_. I let the Dark Side win. _”_

He looks so very young and so painfully desperate for Cody to make things right.

And Cody... all he has to offer is the darkness in his own heart.

“My General, the one I told you about?” He waits patiently until Obi-Wan rubs his eyes and nods weakly. “I killed him. I didn’t want to. I didn’t mean to. There was a chip in my head controlling me and I didn’t even know it was there for years. I thought I’d done the _right_ thing by killing him. And when it was gone, when I realized what I’d done? All I wanted to do was die.”

Obi-Wan’s fingers curl around his own. They don’t have the strength to squeeze hard, but Cody knows they’re capable of far more gentleness than he will ever deserve. “It wasn’t your fault,” he says, sounding so very, very certain.

And for the first time, Cody believes it. He believes it because he needs Obi-Wan to believe the same. “And what happened to you, that wasn’t your fault either. Sometimes people hurt us and we don’t always respond the way we’d like to think we would. But when we get a minute? When we can stop and think and _remember_ , that’s when we get a choice. You chose to help Maul. You chose to save me. You’re choosing _right now_ to do this-” Cody raises their joined hands and shows the boy their bloody fingers. “To offer me comfort when you need it so much more. Obi-Wan, you are a Jedi in the truest, purest form. You are the Jedi that others must look to for aspiration.”

And after all that, his mouth trembling, tears spilling freely across his cheeks, visibly lost as to how to respond, Obi-Wan finally says, “But I lost my lightsaber.”

And Cody bursts into relieved, slightly hysterical laughter. He reaches into the pocket attached to his belt and pulls out a slender duratsteel saber hilt. “Good job I always pack a spare, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes:
> 
>  _Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad_ \- "I know your name as my child"; Mandalorian adoption vow. Yes, I went there. I'm weak for the feels, don't blame me!  
>  _Usenye_ \- Somewhere between "go away" and "get fucked".


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the epic owwies of the last chapter, we have an update in which no one gets hurt! In fact! Certain things might start to heal!
> 
> (Until tomorrow's update anyway because then things are going right back to yikes!)
> 
> Your comments and messages continue to fill me with an unhealthy amount of joy. Thank you. So much.

And so it is that they regroup with Mace Windu. Two Jedi Masters, two Knights, a Padawan, a Nightsister, a defective clone, and the tiny, murderous chaos that is Maul and BD-1 prepare to march on the Sith fortress. Their plan, if Cody is feeling generous enough to use that word, is to create a diversion and lure the hunters out from their stronghold. There is safety in numbers; they need to counter that. Merrin volunteers for that job and no one argues with her.

“Just please don’t bring the building down on our heads?” Cal looks a little wary. Cody, therefore, is preemptively worried.

But she scoffs and waves away his concern. “Maul will watch my back.” No one was planning on suggesting they separate and Obi-Wan is adamant that Maul isn’t forced back into the fortress. Cody will put all the credits he owns on Maul demolishing anyone who tries to harm her while she casts her spells. The boy alternates between huddling between her and Obi-Wan and hissing every so often at Cal, his teeth bared.

Yeah, there is someone badly in need of a violent outlet, age be damned. Cody’s sure as hell not getting in his way.

He’s not leaving Obi-Wan’s side. They’ve had a short, almost entirely non-verbal argument in which Cody loudly projected all the ways in which he is unhappy with Obi-Wan doing anything other than hiding on the ship. It’s an argument he loses when Obi-Wan says, “If you don’t want to get lost forever in the literal maze that those dungeons are, you’re taking me with you.” He’s got a point, which Cody hates. “And we don’t have enough people to spare. If we’re together then there’s less chance of them trying to use me as a hostage.” Cody hates that, too.

The problem is Cal.

“Qui-Gon and I will keep the Sith occupied,” Windu decides, carefully ignoring Obi-Wan’s flinch. “You’re the only one here who has fought one and lived, Kestis, we could use your help.”

“You what?” Obi-Wan exclaims as Cal chews on his bottom lip, visibly torn between doing what is asked of him and staying with his Padawan.”

“I should be with Obi-Wan,” he shakes his head, pointedly ignoring Obi-Wan’s wide-eyed, questioning look.

Kit Fisto reaches out and clasps his forearm. “I will protect your Padawan with my life,” he says, a rare solemnness to his voice. “But your presence will do more good elsewhere.”

Obi-Wan gives up on waiting for an explanation and rolls his eyes. “I’ll be fine, Master,” he reassures Cal. “Nobody is getting past Cody.”

_Damn kriffing right they’re not._

_“_ I’ve got this, _vod_ ,” Cody agrees. “Send that _shabuir_ our regards.”

“Watch out for the Guards,” Obi-Wan adds as the group lapses into silence. “They’re Force users, and they fight mean.”

“Do you know how many of them there are, Obi-Wan?” Jinn asks him.

The boy screws his face up in thought. “At least eight?”

“Tzak,” Maul spits. He catches Obi-Wan’s eye and says, “Thirteen. They are thirteen.”

“Not the best odds,” Windu admits.

Cody disagrees; Cal will probably kill at least half of them all by himself as a warm-up. “Not the worst.”

“The children,” Merrin asks Obi-Wan, “are they like you?”

“Force-sensitive?”

“No. Well yes. I mean... are they,” her expression turns fierce, “injured?”

“I don’t think so,” Obi-Wan frowns. “They wanted us fit enough to put up a fight in the hunting grounds.”

“Kid, you’re more bruise than person right now,” Cal says incredulously. “If you’re what they consider ‘fit’...”

The boy looks away. “Most of this happened after we got out,” he admits, and Cody understands the words he’s not saying. The Sith might be content to merely toy with his mind, but his guests were clearly a lot more hands-on.

Cody expands his kill list to include every single person they encounter. They deserve death without prejudice.

“You know we’re gonna talk about this after, right?” Cal softly warns.

Obi-Wan nods. “Yes, Master.”

“It will make your escape a lot easier if the children are capable of leaving on their own two feet,” Jinn says directly to Cody, who is mentally calculating how many kids he can reasonably carry at once. Three? Any more than four becomes a logistical nightmare no matter how much weight they might be dealing with.

“BD?” Cal lifts his hand up to the droid, “how many Stims you got left?”

" _Beep bop!_ " BD-1 spits nine green cylinders onto the ground. Cal, Jinn and Windu take one each for backup, the other six go to Cody, who tucks them carefully into his belt.

And so they go.

“Let’s just hope Dooku and Cere can jump in sooner rather than later,” Cal chuckles as they head towards the point of no return. He raises a fist for BD to nuzzle against, then sets his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. The boy is on his feet, a miracle Cody would never believe if not for seeing his General do the same thing far too often.

“Dooku?” Merrin asks, gently untangling Maul’s hand from her own.

“Another Jedi,” Cal explains. “Was a sithspawn, now hopefully not.”

Her eyebrows climb with a blink of incredulity. “Hopefully?”

Cal shrugs. “We’re taking a lot on hope right now.”

“Jedi,” she despairs, shaking her head as she leads Maul away. “Do not die, Cal Kestis. I would be most displeased.”

Cody’s waited his entire _life_ to give one of his _vod’ika_ the look he’s giving Cal now.

“Not a kriffing word,” Cal says through gritted teeth.

“Oh no,” Cody grins. “I’m not saying anything.”

“What?” Obi-Wan looks back and forth between them both, frowning. “Am I missing something?”

“Ask your Master,” Cody says.

“No!” Cal exclaims.

"He'll tell you when you're older."

_"E chu ta!"_

"Not in front of the kid!"

“Knight Kestis?” Their bickering is stalled by the sudden attention of Master Jinn, who looks, for the first time Cody has seen, almost nervous. “Might I beg a word with your Padawan?”

The request seems to throw Cal and Cody can understand why. He’s grateful Jinn is following protocol. This is confusing and conflicting enough for Obi-Wan without his former Master assuming informalities without getting permission first.

“Of course, Master Jinn,” he says, bowing slightly and taking a step away. Cody doesn’t budge, and from the soft look in his eyes, Jinn doesn’t appear to expect him to.

Sinking down to one knee, Jinn puts himself lower than the boy he usually towers over and takes both of his arms in his hands.

“M-Master?”

“What you’re doing is very brave, Obi-Wan. I’m sure it means little to you know, but I want you to know I am very proud of you. You are growing into a fine Jedi, and I will always be thankful for our time together. You’ve taught me much, little one.”

Cody doesn’t _like_ Jinn, and even he can feel a lump in his throat. These Jedi are so unfailingly, obnoxiously _good_ that it’s hard to balance their mistakes with their intentions. Jinn has done so much damage in such a short amount of time, but he’s also laid the foundations for the kind of goodness that changes the galaxy for the better.

Obi-Wan, showing again how brave he is, only trembles a little when he responds. “It was an honor and a privilege to learn at your side, Master Jinn.”

Jinn’s eyes look suspiciously wet as he smiles. “The honor was mine, Obi-Wan.”

He rises gracefully and steps away, starting to move in the direction of Windu and Fisto when Obi-Wan calls him back. “Master!” he blurts the word out quickly, clinging to his courage. “Would you have taken me back? If the Council had allowed it? Would you have wanted me?”

Oh, come _on._ His heart can only take so much. Cody clenches his fist, ready and willing to punch Jinn into the next parsec if he _karks_ this up.

He doesn’t need to worry. “I should never have let you go in the first place,” Jinn says sadly. He inclines his head respectfully and adds, “May the Force be with you.”

The short exchange seems to have exhausted Obi-wan, who leans into Cody’s side, a soft, thoughtful look on his young face. Cal waits a moment before jogging back over to them.

“I can speak with the Council,” he offers quietly. “When we return to the Temple. If you want to go back to Master Jinn.”

Cody struggles not to flinch. Jinn tolerates him but he won’t let him stay this close, won’t let him be around Obi-Wan all the time, won’t let him do his _kriffing_ job and-

“You’re my Master,” Obi-Wan says firmly. “And Cody’s my...” he looks up, frowning. “Cody’s my Cody?” Cody nods and grunts an affirmative and the boy smiles. “We’re a team.”

Cody squeezes his uninjured shoulder and warms under the bright affection that blooms on Cal’s face. Yeah, they’re a team.

They might all be about to die at the hands of a Sith Lord, but they’re gonna face this the way Cody’s faced every problem he’s ever overcome: as part of a unit. Part of a family.

“Cody’s your anxious mother,” Cal teases.

Cody keeps his expression perfectly neutral. “Your girlfriend’s new kid wants to murder you in your sleep,” he says.

“Oh, he won’t wait for you to fall asleep,” Obi-Wan says brightly. “He has very sharp teeth.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cal says absently. “Wait, no, Merrin isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Whatever you say, _vod’ika,_ ” Cody snorts. “Whatever you say.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some violence!

Merrin’s idea of a distraction involves ripping open the entire front entrance to the grand fortress.

It also involves raising the dead.

“Yeah, she does that a lot,” Cal whispers, patting Cody reassuringly on the arm as he stares in horror at the rotten, maimed bodies that claw and drag their way out of the forest. There have been a lot of deaths in this hellish place and no shortage of bodies to reanimate.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Obi-Wan does have a faint green tinge to his pale face. He’s on his feet, saber in hand, and Cody doesn’t know if he’s more proud or upset.

“You and me both, kid,” he whispers back.

Merrin either can’t hear them or doesn’t care to answer. She is a terrifying vision of raw, untamed power, familiar green tendrils of magic pouring from her eyes and mouth, twisting down her chest and arms and reaching out to devastate anything in her path. Besides her, Maul clutches the two long, sharpened, elaborate blades she’s given him and bounces on the balls of his feet in anticipation.

Cody’s brothers were younger when they saw their first fight and they’re years too late to save the child’s innocence, but the sight of his small body poised so eagerly for blood churns something uncomfortably in his gut.

Maul’s eyes flash bright though, and he looks more alive than he has since they met.

With the walls of the fortress trembling and torn open, Merrin marches her army of the undead into its depths, a deadly lure for the monsters waiting inside.

“We’re leaving this part _out_ of our report to the Council, right?” Jinn looks at Windu with an air of wry amusement. It’s not a look Windu returns.

“Someone _else_ can write it up,” Fisto shakes his head firmly. “Sweet Force.”

“ _Beep bop boop!_ ”

“That’s true,” Cal agrees with BD-1, “it _is_ a lot cooler now they’re not trying to rip _my_ arms off.”

“Just how many times has she try to kill you?” Cody asks.

“I honestly stopped counting,” Cal snorts. For a second, his expression is fond, almost affectionate, then he turns to Obi-Wan and Cody. “If either of you die, I’m kicking your asses.”

“We’re not the one about to fight a Sith,” Cody reminds him. “They will cheat every chance they get. Don’t give them an opening, and don’t trust a word they say.”

Cal nods. “May the Force be with you both.”

“May the Force be with you, Master,” Obi-Wan responds softly.

Cody just stares at him. “You’re a survivor. You’ve got this.”

There’s nothing more either of them can say, and no time to say it anyway. Cal smiles at them both one last time before darting off to join Jinn and Windu. They make good use of the chaos Merrin is creating to slip into the Fortress and begin their hunt.

And now it’s their turn. Cody takes a breath, squares himself and finds that point of calm that’s seen him through every battle. “Your orders,” he says to Obi-Wan, more habit than anything.

The boy doesn’t question it though. “This way,” he says, and leads them around the side of the fortress to the edge of a small waterway. “We can access the dungeons from here,” he says. “We thought it was a fault in the system defenses, but it’s more likely they’ve designed it that way.” How better to mess with their prisoners than to give them the illusion of escape? Hope of freedom granted, only to be ripped away by the realization that they might’ve been safer inside. “Just, uh, swim fast? There’s a lot of things in here that will try to eat you.”

Fisto beams at them. “Ah, you leave that to me young one!”

Cody thinks he should maybe be a little less excited by the prospect of wrestling water monsters, but who is he really to judge? He can’t _wait_ to rip someone’s head off.

“After you, kid,” Cody shrugs, stepping back to let Obi-Wan slide past him and sink into the water.

Fisto has no problem navigating their new environment, easily scouting ahead of them, ducking under the surface and reporting back until they finally reach the edge of the fortress’s foundations and the only way is down.

“We have a few guests,” the Knight says cheerfully. “Go, I will deal with them and catch up.”

He darts off into the water, swift and deadly in his hunt. “I wish I could swim like that,” Obi-Wan grumbles, taking a deep breath and ducking under the surface.

Don’t they both, Cody thinks.

He follows Obi-Wan down, his breath control excellent after solid training on Kamino. They spent a lot of time in the water as recruits and even before his Commando training, Cody was a good swimmer. He made the fatal error of revealing to his General that part of said training involved being trapped underwater in cages for minutes at a time and fondly remembers how for once it had been _Anakin_ trying to stop _Obi-Wan_ from straight-up murder. Granted, he’d not tried very hard and the General had eventually settled for a ten-minute rant to the Council, a bottle of brandy slipped to Cody by way of guilty apology. Cody can’t say he begrudges the experience when it takes longer than expected to find the opening Obi-Wan is looking for.

Then it’s a case of squeezing himself through the small gap. Both his shoulders take a battering against either side of the precariously small space, the dark, claustrophobic environment does nothing to settle Cody’s patience.

Finally, they find air. He hauls himself out of the water and onto the edge of a small corridor. The vaulted ceiling, low visibility and sheer _evil_ seeping from the walls almost makes Cody wish he were back underwater.

Obi-Wan shivers, terror slowly creeping back into his expression. beyond the far end of the corridor, Cody can hear the high pitched wails of frightened, tormented children.

They’re in the right place, then.

Instinct forces Cody to duck a split second before a lightsaber pike sweeps above his head, its flashing red blade casting a malicious glow across the wet, slimy walls. Cody swings his leg around, only just able to catch the heel of his boot against a well-built shin-plate. He’s seen weapons like this before - typically in the hands of the Jedi Temple Guards. The handle is almost as long as the human body and its blade significantly shorter and thicker than the more graceful sabers used by Jedi Guardians. It puts him at a significant disadvantage when it comes to reach, but he knows how to counter it.

The figure attacking him is instantly recognizable. Along with the unmistakable _beskar'gam_ of the Death Watch, it’s up there with the most intimidating military uniforms in the Galaxy. At least for a _vod_. The seppies might class their shiny uniforms in the same rank.

Black and gold armor of a Sun Guard Captain stares back at him from the opposite side of the corridor.

Just the one. And Cody knows even without seeing his face _who_ he is.

“Go,” he says to Obi-Wan, not taking his eyes off his target.

“But-” he understands the boy’s hesitation, knows why he’s worried. This fight would be easier with a lightsaber, but Obi-Wan is in no shape for a duel, and Cody knows what he’s doing.

“I’ll be fine. See to the kids.”

“Run along, Little Jedi,” Inyak mocks from behind his mask. “I’ll be seeing you again soon. We had a lot of fun on our trip here, didn’t we?”

Cody knows what he’s trying to do. He knows he’s going to need to have a serious conversation with Obi-Wan about _everything_ he’s suffered since Inyak took him. And he knows he’s going to rip this _shabuir hut'uunla_ apart.

Something calm settles in Obi-Wan’s gaze, almost as though he knows it too.

“I’m coming back for you,” he says firmly, then vanishes into the darkness in search of the children.

“Gotta admit,” Inyak chuckles, “I was really hoping you’d come for him. We never really got the chance to do this _right_.” He swings the pike from one hand to the other, a fighting stance, ready to push his advantage.

Cody could try to shoot him. There’s little chance of landing a hit and even less chance of it penetrating the armor, but it’s a distraction. “I told you what I’d do to you if you hurt him,” Cody says. He’s not buying time, he’s ready, but Inyak doesn’t need to know that. Their last fight was hardly what you’d even call a fight and there’s no harm in letting him think Cody’s nervous.

“You have no _idea_ how much I hurt him, friend,” Inyak mocks.

“Then you’ve got this coming.”

He waits for Inyak to attack him.

His first step is to get that pike out of the picture. It creates distance between them, designed to drive its target further away and out of reach.

Cody steps _into_ the attack, drops his shoulder, twists himself around until the body of the staff is trapped across his chest, then throws his weight forwards and dumps Inyak over his head. He keeps hold of the pike. Inyak doesn’t. But he does roll smoothly to his feet, the initial shock of Cody’s move shaken off in an instant.

“You’ve done this before.” He sounds excited by the prospect.

Cody’s done talking. He could use the pike himself, but he doesn’t want to risk being disarmed, knowing that he won’t be able to use the same move twice. Instead, he throws the pike into the deep water behind them. The blade shorts out on contact, the staff sinking below the surface.

Inyak’s armored head tilts to one side. Then he raises his hands, unfastens his helmet, and flashes his sharp, pointed teeth. “Alright,” he grins, “let’s do this the fun way.”

He charges again.

Cody is ready.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is fairly gory and there is a lot going on. Up until now, I've been able to keep the groups fairly small as various parties do their own thing off-screen, but for the first time all the major players are in one place and it's going to be a LOT to juggle. Wish me luck!

The two of them are evenly matched physically.

Ultimately, it comes down to whose will to destroy the other is the strongest. Inyak worships the Sith. He protects and serves the people who have taken _everything_ from Cody.

He took Obi-Wan. He _hurt_ the child Cody loves more than life. And he delivered him into the hands of a monster who has brutally terrorized and tortured him.

This isn’t a contest of will.

Cody’s killed in anger before. Many times.

This is probably the first time he’s killed in _hate._

He’s not a Jedi. There are no rules.

Inyak puts up a fight, of course he does. But Cody follows one carefully aimed blow with another, knocking him off his feet and trapping him down against the ground. It takes only seconds of brutal accuracy to gain the upper hand, but once Cody starts hitting him, he can’t stop. Years of pent up rage and anguish power each hit as the man beneath him becomes the embodiment of everyone who has ever reached into Cody’s life and _taken_. As Cody’s fists pound relentlessly into his skull, Inyak never once stops smiling. He grins, wide and bloody and now minus several of those pointed teeth, bright and elated as though he’s won a great victory. “Knew I could count on you,” he chokes, his dying words catching in his throat a second before Cody shatters his larynx with his fist.

Cody can't go back and change the past, so he does what he does best, and he breaks things.

Over and over and over again, until there’s not much left but a bloody, gloopy, cavernous mass where Inyak’s face once was.

“Cody?”

Obi-Wan is stood at the end of the corridor, shaking from exhaustion and clutching - or being clutched by - four children. They all have wide, wild eyes and battered, blood-soaked forms and Cody doesn’t _want_ to scare any of them, but he can’t bring himself to care that Inyak is dead, or how he did it.

Scowling, his breath catching in his throat from exertion, Cody kicks the body off the edge of the stone floor into the water beside it. “Is that all of them?” He doesn’t mean to sound as gruff as he does. He must be terrifying to them. Another point of violence in their horrific world.

Obi-Wan shakes his head, then blinks away his shock and nods. “Yeah. The others...” he casts a glance back behind him, expression haunted. “I don’t want to leave them here, but-”

“Focus on the living,” Cody calms him. “The dead don’t need your help.”

Only one of the children is crying, the others look too shocked to really react, not even when the surface of the water breaks and Kit Fisto lands with a graceful somersault. He takes one look at Cody - who appears to be covered in a fair amount of Inyak’s blood - and then the children, before folding himself down into something smaller and less frightening. “Hello, little ones,” he greets them, radiating a soothing balm of warmth and comfort.

Cody’s more than happy to let him take the lead on that front. Comforting traumatized children is hardly his strong suit.

Just look at Obi-Wan.

Moving quickly but carefully, Fisto gathers the children from Obi-Wan, who is scarcely able to support himself let alone four others. “Time to leave this place,” he smiles kindly, patient in the face of their wary distrust.

_Children_. Obi-Wan is probably the oldest.

He wants Inyak alive so he can kill him all over again.

Obi-Wan turns away from them, his eyes growing wide and worried. Cody tries to see what he’s seeing and finds only blank walls. This is a Jedi thing, but Fisto seems as perplexed as he is. “Something’s wrong,” Obi-Wan mutters. “Something-” and then his eyes take on a faraway look, something Cody has only seen once before.

If ‘ _I have a bad feeling about this_ ’ is a harbinger of doom, _this look_ announces to the world that everything is about to go spectacularly to shit.

Cody doesn’t question it, and he doesn’t doubt Obi-Wan’s foresight. He probably has more faith in it than the boy does himself. “Where?”

“Main Hall,” Obi-Wan answers, his voice as far away as his gaze.

Cody turns to Fisto. “Get the kids out of here.”

“I promised Kestis I would watch over his Padawan,” Fisto shakes his head in refusal.

Cody sympathizes, he does, but it’s a simple equation. “I can’t protect four of them, you can. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Fisto sighs pointedly and Cody’s taken back to some of the more colorful discussions the man had with his General. He’s never met two individuals who could argue so amicably, the both of them so painfully, endearingly _nice_. “I’m supposed to watch your back as well, Commander,” he points out. Whether he’s aware of the strong connection between Cody, Cal, and Obi-Wan, he doesn’t know. Probably. Jedi are annoyingly perceptive.

“I’ll take care of Cody, Master,” Obi-Wan promises earnestly, blinking away the distance in his eyes and focusing his attention on the group. “The children have to come first.”

Like he’s not a child himself. Cody takes advantage of the fact that he’s taller and standing behind Obi-Wan to roll his eyes. Fisto grins, but bows his head. “I will see them safely to the ship then return with haste.”

“Great,” Cody acknowledges. “Feel free to stab anyone you meet on the way.”

“You should probably consider taking up meditation,” Obi-Wan advises sagely. Fisto helps the kids into the water, gentle and encouraging in the face of their fear, leaving Cody to focus on the matter at hand.

“Kid,” he says, careful to keep pace with Obi-Wan as they jog towards the entrance of the dungeons, “if we live through this I will do all the bendy twisty head balance-y mental relaxation stuff you want me to.”

Obi-Wan snorts, their light conversation helping him focus through the pain. Cody and his General never quite hit the extreme levels of bickering Anakin provoked as a way of maintaining their focus when injured, but they’ve always been able to share a good back and forth. If anything, Obi-Wan is far cheekier as a teen than he ever was as an adult. “That’s not an excuse to get yourself killed just to avoid it,” he says.

“Who’s avoiding?” They take the stairs as fast as they can, Obi-Wan panting a little as they reach the top. “I’m a picture of mental health.”

“You just beat a man to death with your bare hands,” the kid points out. He sounds worried. He sounds disappointed. 

Which, fine. But - “He hurt you.”

“It’s still a _little_ disprop-”

“Don’t.” Cody can’t bear to hear him say that he’s not worth it. Not now. Not after everything. Not when he looks so very fragile and hurt. Not when Inyak smiled and promised to double down on pain already inflicted and for _once_ Cody was able to protect him.

Obi-Wan’s small hand curls around his wrist. Two of his nails are missing and those awful cuffs are still tight and bruising around pale flesh. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I never asked; are you okay?”

Cody opens his mouth to tell him that he’s ridiculous and precious and he needs to _stop_ before he breaks Cody’s heart further, only -

“MURDERER!!!”

The shriek of furious horror rattles unnaturally around the fortress, ice sinking into his bones as a silent wave of emotion rocks him back on his heels. For a second he feels like he’s drowning beneath torrents of anguished torment, years of horror and suffering exploding in one cataclysmic outburst.

Then Obi-Wan is between Cody and the sickening, gods-awful horror, a small, bright flame flickering in the gale, holding the darkness at bay. Cody almost stumbles, managing instead to keep his feet and trying not to lean too heavily on Obi-Wan as they battle forwards.

“Is that Merrin?” Obi-Wan shouts over the echoing scream.

The cold comes back in an instant. If it _is_ Merrin, what could possibly prompt such a reaction from her?

“Is... is Cal...?” He’s too afraid to finish the sentence, his heart so thickly congested with scar tissue that it can no longer bleed with fear and only throb numbly in anticipation of further devastation.

“No,” Obi-Wan promises. “No, no I can feel him, I can-” a second, then a heartbeat pulses soothingly in Cody’s mind.

Almost weeping in relief, Cody manages to stumble on. “Then what _is_ that?”

That _is_ Merrin. She’s the first thing they see as they finally break through into the Main Hall.

She isn’t supposed to be here, but he can see in an instant why she’s pushed forwards instead of keeping a distance.

Her scream of devastation has brought the unfolding scenes of carnage into a confused, chaotic focus, and there’s almost too much happening for Cody to keep track of.

He finds Cal first, one end of his duel bladed saber buried in the chest of a fallen Sun Guard. He’s surrounded by bodies, his expression cold, focused and sharp, and he’s not yet broken a sweat.

He’s having a better time with them than the rest of the Jedi are with their targets.

Cere appears to be fighting three Mandalorian warriors, their practice at hunting Jedi giving them an edge she’s only just keeping contained.

Jinn is down on one knee, wounded and bleeding, but rising, moving to join Windu, who is locked saber to saber with a cloaked figure wielding a red blade.

Merrin’s army of the undead has broken over the gathering with a multitude of unnatural howls, each fallen victim of the hunt gleefully tearing the limbs off their one time tormentors and scattering the ground with their dismembered bodies.

Maul, who isn’t supposed to _be_ here _,_ breaks from behind Merrin’s back and launches himself into the air, twin blades extended and aimed at the back of the figure fighting Windu and Jinn. The Sith - and he must be a Sith - deflects Windu’s attack and throws a fistful of lightning at the child before he can strike.

His small, still body hits the ground hard, Obi-Wan’s scream ringing out in unison. “No!”

Cody grabs him around the waist and ends up hauling him off his feet in an attempt to stop him from racing to help his new friend.

Because none of the Jedi have yet realized that Merrin’s scream of rage and hatred _isn’t_ directed at the Sith.

Or it is. Or it will be.

But not yet.

Her power swells until it fills the room, shaking the high vaulted ceiling above them so hard it rains down enormous chunks of stone and masonry.

She has Dooku in the air, slowly choking the life out of him, his legs kicking helplessly as the raw power of a furious Nightsister clash with the might of the Jedi Master and _dominates_.

And at the very end of the cavernous room, a tall, masked figure draws the power-infused darkness around himself like a cloak. He grows in the darkness until he threatens to swallow them all whole in the shadow of his evil presence.

This is the being who tore into Obi-Wan's mind and poured darkness into his soul. This is the monster who took the brightest light in the galaxy and tried to defile it with his evil.

Obi-Wan goes limp with terror against Cody’s chest, and the Sith Master calls out, his voice soft and _deafening_ as he speaks to Merrin with only one order.

“ _Kill him.”_


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, before you yell at me for this part, I feel I should say a word or two in my defense.
> 
> I should. But I'm not gonna. If you've made it this far then you know I'm an asshole and shouldn't expect anything else. 
> 
> Warnings ahead for gory imagery and the meanest cliffhanger yet :D

There’s no time to fall into horrifying stillness, not when the Sith fighting Windu and Jinn takes advantage of Merrin’s distraction to drive the hilt of his saber sharply up into Windu’s jaw. The Jedi stumbles back, visibly stunned and left wide open to the torrent of lightning that shoots from the Sith’s outstretched hand. Cody can barely hear his screams over the commotion.

Jinn darts forwards, his attention dangerously split between the Sith and his former Master, and Cody can _see_ what’s coming next.

Kriffing hells, this might be the worst clusterfrick he’s _ever_ been in. And he’s including Geonosis in that statement.

Dropping Obi-Wan to one side, he raises his blaster and fires a bolt right into the Sith’s head.

Which does sweet kriff all but draw his attention away from Jinn long enough for the Jedi Master to get his kriffing head in focus. Of course, it now means Cody and Obi-Wan are locked in the sights of a Sith Lord, which is up there with Cody’s least favorite places to be.

“Cal!” He yells, not taking his eyes off the enemy. The Sith is still cloaked and all he can see is a wide, bloody grin flashing white in the shadows. “Do something about your kriffing girlfriend!”

In his constantly evolving list of battlefield priorities, Merrin killing Dooku isn’t all that high. Either she gets on with it or lets him go, but they need her focus on that _real_ threat right now.

Cody’s already starting to move, predicting the incoming lightening a second before it’s shooting towards his head. That doesn’t stop Obi-Wan from delivering a helpful kick to the side of his knee to get him out of the line of fire.

“Do you have a plan?” Obi-Wan demands. Fear is still rolling off him in waves, but there’s a look in his eyes that Cody knows and _cherishes_ , and it’s one that says he’s maybe half a second away from losing his temper. Cody doesn’t know what kind of damage an annoyed, badly injured thirteen-year-old Jedi can do, but if it’s even a fraction of the carnage his adult self can deliver then it will at least up the odds of them _not_ all dying horrible deaths.

“Sure!” Cody shouts back, raising his weapon and firing at the chunks of ceiling that are still falling haphazardly around them. It’s hardly mortar fire but improvisation is the key. “How far can you throw me?”

“I beg your pardon?” Now is the very last time for Obi-Wan’s manners, but the absurdity of his polite bewilderment is almost reassuring.

Trying to keep one eye on the Sith - both of the shabuirs - and get a look at how close Merrin is to throttling Dooku to death with her powers, Cody does some quick calculations. “Throw me,” he says, nodding a little more confidently. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“You are very damaged,” Obi-Wan says in horror. “I’m not _throwing you at a Sith Lord!”_

 _“_ Okay, I’ll throw you,” Cody shrugs.

“ _How will that make a difference?_ ”

“You’re pretty small,” Cody shrugs, “I can get you at least ten feet I bet.”

“You are the _worst_ ,” Obi-Wan growls, his eyes narrowing as Cody’s grin widens. “I know what you’re trying to do!”

Cody channels his inner Anakin Skywalker, fixes on his biggest shit-eating smirk, and holds his arms out wide. Behind them, Windu and Jinn are once again trying to engage the Sith. They're running out of time, and he needs Obi-Wan engaged no matter how much he might want to protect him. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Obi-Wan’s been cut off from the force for weeks now, so this could go either way, but when the teen takes a long preparatory breath he figures that at least something is going to happen.

Then an invisible wave hits him square in the chest, lifts him off his feet and tosses him so hard and so fast he leaves his dignity behind. Sparing a second of sympathy for every time this happened to Rex, he tucks his knees to his chest, lowers his head and lets himself be a human canon.

If he’s learned one thing about Sith over the years it’s that they always vastly overestimate how terrified people are of them.

Which, okay yes, Cody’s a heartbeat away from embarrassing himself, but he’s also doing the very opposite of what they expect.

Most people run. Jedi stand their ground.

It’s not often anyone _chooses_ to body slam them from a great height.

And of course it _hurts_ , even with a Sith landing mat. They collide with a shuddering impact that reminds Cody that he’s only a month healed from a fractured collarbone; his ribs, shoulder, and hip all loudly and violently announcing how kriffing much they hate his plans. He doesn’t stop to listen though, just continues to roll _out_ of the fight and leave it to the two bewildered Jedi to take advantage of the situation.

He probably looks ridiculous, but he’s not really expecting anyone to laugh.

The malicious roll of the Sith Lord’s amusement instantly makes him feel sick.

A black wave of power flashes above him, missing him by inches but knocking Windu, Jinn _and_ the Sith to the ground. Cody knows better than to count his blessings, but there’s no escaping the invisible hand that wraps around his throat and lifts him from the ground.

He’s nothing to struggle against, nothing he can fight, just that invisible pressure and power that holds him as though he is as weak and insignificant as a child’s toy.

“Enough now,” Hego Damask is a tall, slender Muun male, clothed in heavy velvet and silks, a sleek, engraved transpirator mask covering the lower half of his face. It gives his voice an artificial sound that only adds to the malice he shrouds himself with. “So you’re the one who found my little toy.”

The message to go kriff himself is lost to a choked gurgle.

“Was this everything you wanted when you came back here?” Damask asks curiously. He raises his hand and slowly turns Cody around so he has an unrestricted view of the carnage unfolding before him.

Jinn is down, clutching a wound at his side, struggling back to his feet, unwilling to let Windu fight alone.

And _Windu_. In ten years’ time, this fight might be going differently, but he’s younger, less experienced, and fighting a warrior in his prime. Even with Jinn, he’s not going to win this one.

Maul still hasn’t moved from where he’s fallen. A lifetime of pain and hate condensed to the sad, tragic form of his small, crumpled body. How long was he supposed to be here, at the mercy and cruel whims of such monsters? Another ten years? Is it any wonder he grew up the way he did?

Dooku is in a similar situation to Cody, thrashing still in Merrin’s bonds. He’s not done anything wrong. Not yet. No one even knows if he will now, of if he’ll do something worse. If anyone has the right to his life it’s Merrin, but is it justice to kill an innocent man? Hells, is it even revenge?

“You’ve destroyed everything you wanted to save,” Damask whispers to him with a soft, insidious kind of sympathy. “The Jedi will die here. The lucky ones. I never would have found them if you’d not brought them to me. I’ll keep the boy; the one you love with all your sad, manufactured little heart. You’ve seen how broken he is already.” He chuckles quietly. “Your witch isn’t the only one who can raise the dead. Maybe I’ll bring you back once I'm done with you? A walking, talking, rotting corpse to keep him company.”

A pained, choked gasp is all Cody can manage.

“What was that?” Damask asks cordially. The grip around his neck loosens enough for him to suck in an agonizing breath, each sharp inhalation lined with shattered stone.

“W-won’t let you-” it’s a struggle to get each word out.

Damask nods in agreement. “Over your dead body, right? That can be arranged.”

Cody’s vision starts to fade at the edges as the pressure tightens again. He can just about see Cal finally vaulting over the last of the Sun Guard and Mandalorian mercenaries, skidding in his haste to reach Merrin. He powers down his lightsaber and holds up his hands to her, foolish and reckless and _he’s put his back to the Sith_ , lowered his guard in the hope of reaching her.

Cere, trusting Cal to handle it, has already turned her attention to helping Jinn and Windu.

Cody can do nothing at all to stop Damask as he holds a conspiratorial finger to his mask, mockingly shushing him even though he can’t make a sound.

In a second, Cody is back on Utapau, the world narrowing to nothing but the holo before him and the echo of an order that tears his entire word apart.

He can’t move. He can’t breathe. He can’t think. And he won’t survive this a second time.

Then Damask reaches his hand out, snatches the green vines of power Merrin has conjured, wrenches it from her control his scarcely any effort, and drives it like a spike straight into Cal’s chest.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, we end the hurt! Only cuddles and comfort from here on in!
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me during this wild and cliffhanger-strewn ride!
> 
> I continue to be horribly behind on comments, but I will do my best to catch up! Please know that I love and appreciate all of them.

Merrin’s scream rings across the room; a sharp, anguished cry of horror that pierces through the choking darkness that’s dragging Cody slowly, but surely to his death.

Cal falls, and with him, Dooku - the future Sith forgotten and unimportant in the face of this new pain. She falls to her knees, agony rolling from her in waves, and crawls to Cal’s side, desperate, pleading cries of his name lost in the face of his eerie stillness.

The Sith don't let the moment pass without action.

The Apprentice sends Windu and Jinn flying, his focus momentarily on Cere, who drives him back with a barrage of powerful blows. There’s blood pouring from a wound above her eye, her expression fixed and ferocious, but the moment she catches glimpse of Cal, the dominance she briefly asserts falls aside. A brutal swipe across her hip with the edge of the Sith’s blade leaves her gasping and stunned, crumpled on the ground.

And so the Apprentice moves to take out the real threat on the field.

Merrin, defenseless and overwhelmed by her struggle to keep Cal’s spirit in this world, pays no attention to the glowing red blade that swings down towards her head.

Cody tries to call her, but can’t. Damask is holding him on the edge just long enough to watch his friends die, but he’s not allowing any kind of room for maneuver. He’s nothing like the warrior Maul will grow to be - he’s cold, calm and impassionately disinterested. They’re little more than bugs to him, weak and powerless in the face of his evil. Small. Disposable. 

Cere sees and is able to shout a warning, but there’s not enough time for her to react. She raises her head, bloody tears streaming down her face, and tries to protect Cal as best she can with her body.

The blow falls.

Out of the looming shadow, weak, wounded and unarmed, Dooku rises. He throws himself between Merrin and the killing blow and is dead before he hits the ground.

Jinn's cry resonates sharply and something in the air seems to shrivel and die as Dooku's spirit - a Jedi to the end - blinks out of existence.

“How unexpected,” Damask muses, dropping Cody without warning.

He hits the ground, tries and fails to take a deeper breath, and _can’t move_.

They’re three down. Outmatched, overpowered.

One by one, the remaining Jedi struggle back to their feet and form a protective wall between Merrin and Cal, sabers raised, their expressions sober.

They’re going to die here. They know it. They’ve accepted the reality.

And still, they fight.

He needs to help, but he’s never been in so much pain. Control of his body has been stolen from him by an enemy far beyond any he’s faced before and the sheer insignificance of his life has never felt so real. Who is he against a Sith when Cal falls so easily? When Mace Windu is outmatched?

Summoning every last grain of strength he possesses, Cody turns his head. _Please_. Please, just let him see Obi-Wan before he dies. Let him go with hope, however foolish.

But there’s no sign of the boy and Cody’s heart turns cold. He won’t have run, can’t be trusted to put himself first, which means...

It means that he’s there, only inches from Cody’s side, barely able to support himself as he drags himself across rubble and rock to Cody’s side. Throwing Cody seems to have cost him what little strength he’d been able to salvage, and now he’s here, only feet from the man who brutally tortured him and Cody is _useless._

He tries to speak, tries to tell him to run. To save himself.

Tries to tell him that he’s a gift Cody doesn’t deserve and that seeing him again after so many years might be the thing that’s saved his soul.

But he can’t. Even opening his mouth is too much. He’s done. Used up and expired.

Obi-Wan reaches for him, and Cody wants to take his hand so badly his heart bleeds.

But instead of a reassuring grasp, Obi-Wan reaches for Cody’s belt.

Damask is too preoccupied with watching his apprentice break the Jedi down to care much for the wounded Padawan - the _broken_ child he’s already dismantled - and pays him no mind.

The pocket of his supply pouch pops open and Obi-Wan withdraws a handful of the stims BD-1 gave him before they set out. He’d taken them for the children, and now Obi-Wan clutches four in his trembling, bloody fist.

It costs Cody all his strength, but he manages to smile grimly, and through a bond that’s worth more than his own life, he tries desperately to project his encouragement.

Obi-Wan nods, and in the same heartbeat he jams all four stims into his thigh, ignites his saber, and launches himself into the air.

He has one chance, and though Cody’s not told him the story of his first fight with a Sith, some part of him seems to know.

He aims for Damask’s neck, and the Sith’s head comes away clean.

It hits the ground with a sickening squelch, rolls with the force of the blow, and comes to rest inches from Cody’s own, surprise written in his wide eyes.

It’s an image Cody must pass out to as precious oxygen suddenly floods his lungs, chasing away the encroaching darkness and replacing it with dizzying light.

He can only be out for seconds, minutes maybe, and comes too to find himself being dragged across the floor.

Obi-Wan has both hands fisted in the shoulder of Cody’s armor and he’s using it as a grip to pull his body slowly across the broken ground. There’s no more wreckage raining from the ceiling and no sign of the remaining Sith.

Just Obi-Wan, who stumbles and shakes with the force of his sobs, dragging Cody towards Cal.

Cody tries again to speak, tries to move, tries to _help,_ but manages nothing.

Above him, he hears Jinn and Windu both speak, though their words sound muffled and far away, as though he’s underwater. Obi-Wan’s denials, though, those are clear as they rattle around his head, hysterical and caught between gulps of hyperventilating panic.

“Obi-Wan, little one, let us help-”

“It’s alright, child-”

“Please-”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Obi-Wan shrieks as he falls to his knees, a frantically chanting Merrin and a still, lifeless Cal at his back.

_I’m here,_ Cody tries to tell him. _I’m not leaving you._ The most he manages is an uncontrolled flail of his arm, his fingers brushing Obi-Wan’s chest.

It’s caught in a painful clasp and dragged closer as Obi-Wan tucks himself as best he can against Cody’s chest, curled like a broken comma around Cal’s head. Their red hair mixes as they lay side by side, both so pale and _so young._

Cody flexes his fingers, the most he can offer in terms of an embrace, and does his best to cradle him in his mind as the horrors of the last month crash against the wall of the child’s dying Master, and Obi-Wan shatters apart at the seams.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LET THE SOFTNESS COMMENCE!

Cody wakes slowly, a gentle hand resting on his chest as he tries to stir, and Cere’s tired face smiling down at him.

“Not yet, Commander,” she soothes. “You need rest.”

She’s using only the lightest pressure but it’s more than he can fight. He’s soft and fuzzy in a way that suggests he’s sedated; his body too heavy to move.

The lure of sleep is a siren’s call he doesn’t want to resist, but something keeps him from closing his eyes and giving in. Something important. _Someone_ important. “Cal?”

“He’s safe,” Cere promises. “You’re all safe. We’re on The Olympus headed back to Coruscant.”

He blinks through the low light of a medical wing in the middle of a sleep cycle and lets himself feel the familiar sensations of being on a ship at lightspeed. The effort it costs him to roll his head towards the closest bunk is worth it just to see Cal. He’s tucked under clean white sheets, Merrin’s head pillowed on her arms she has propped on the edge of the bed. They’re both sleeping, BD-1 sitting sad and quiet by Cal’s feet.

That just leaves Obi-Wan...

Cere’s kind, careful fingers gently help him turn his head to face the bunk on his other side. He sees Jinn first, pale and weary, both his hands wrapped around one of Obi-Wan’s, the child small and unmoving under the sheets.

“They’re both going to be okay,” Cere promises. “But they’re going to need you at your best. Rest for now, Commander.”

Cody starts to tell her that he’s not tired, not really, blinking up at her one second...

...and opening his eyes again to see Cal’s face instead.

“What the-”

He has feeling back in his limbs, and some degree of strength, so can push himself upright in surprise. The lights are brighter now and several hours have clearly passed.

“Thought you were gonna sleep the whole way back,” Cal grins tiredly. He’s settled himself onto a chair between Cody and Obi-Wan’s beds, pale blue medical gown mostly hidden beneath a thick blanket that’s tucked over his lap. BD-1 is perched on his knee, looking considerably happier than before.

“You’re awake,” Cody says dumbly. “You’re _alive_.”

“The badass combination of Nightsister healing techniques, Jedi stamina and the best medical care this side of the rim.” He starts to chuckle, then clutches a hand over his stomach with a wince. “Might be a little tender for a while...”

“I thought...” Cody shakes his head and tries to rid himself of the memory of Cal bleeding and lifeless on the ground.

Cal reaches out and puts a hand on Cody’s arm. “I know,” he says seriously. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“ _Beep beep_?”

“And you, buddy,” Cal promises, letting the little droid nuzzle his hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“What about-” He turns easier this time. There’s no sign of Jinn or Merrin, but Obi-Wan hasn’t moved. Aside from the slight rise and fall of his chest, there’s no visible indication that he’s alive, let alone healing.

Cal’s smile fades. “He’s not doing so good. They’re keeping him sedated until we get back to the Temple,” Cal says sadly. “The Healers think he’ll be less agitated if he wakes up somewhere he knows is safe. Cere says it took both Mace and Qui-Gon to calm him down after...”

“After he killed a kriffing Sith,” Cody says flatly. Thirteen years old. Twelve years before he’s even supposed to encounter one. They Knighted him for it the last time and they can hardly do that now, can they? “We’ve made everything worse.”

“Have we?” Cal asks. He looks troubled, but not tortured. Like perhaps he doesn’t know the answer either. “Half the Council and thirty Jedi Shadows are combing over Sojourn as we speak. Between Vox Chun and whatever they find in the ruins, the fate of the Galaxy is about to take a significant shift. Damask is dead. The Apprentice is on the run. _Maul_ is safe in our custody and can hopefully be pulled back to the Light. Dooku was... Dooku died a hero.” His voice breaks, matching the sharp, unexpected pang in Cody’s chest. He feels no love or loss for the man but can respect his selfless act of redemption.

With Dooku dead, the Apprentice on the run and a significant part of the Senate soon to be under investigation, Cal is right: much _will_ change. The war will likely never happen, and if it does... Cody and his brothers might not even be born. He’s not sure how he feels about that, but he knows there’s a big difference between dying and never existing in the first place.

This... it _should_ feel like a win. They’ve struck a significant blow against the Sith however they look at it.

Instead, he just feels numb. Tired.

He feels like they’ve bought the _potential_ for a better world at the cost of a child’s innocence.

His General would consider it a fair trade. More than fair.

Cody carefully slides out of his bunk and leans his hip against Obi-Wan’s bunk for balance. Now he can reach over and run a hand through the boy’s short hair. It’s clean as is the rest of him, a multitude of cuts and bruises visible now he’s not caked in blood. If his heart ached before, now it bleeds; wicked marks of barbarism telling a long and harrowing story.

“He killed a Sith,” Cody says. “What is that gonna mean for him now? He put a target on his back on Naboo, what is this... _kriffing hells_ , how do we protect him?”

“Aggressively,” Cal says flatly. “I don’t plan on leaving the Temple any time soon. He needs time to heal.” He raises bruised eyed to Cody, his expression pointed. “I think we all do.”

“I’m fine,” Cody starts to say, but he doesn’t need Cal to interrupt him before the excuse falls flat. He’s not fine. He’s not been fine for years. And as for Cal... “You should be resting.”

The absent flail of an arm at the blanket over his knees is a blatant indicator that Cal is still a teenager himself - a Jedi teenager, who therefore cannot be trusted to know his own limits. His frown says as much, and Cal sighs. “I know, and I am, but-” he waves the same hand in Obi-Wan’s direction. “No one has ever needed me before,” he admits. “When we were looking for the holocron and Cere and I talked about the children we might find... they were only names on a list that I never even read. We were a team, all of us on the Mantis, but they didn’t _need_ me. I wasn’t there to guide them or protect them.” He chuckles to himself. “They were there for me. I needed _them._ But this... I don’t know how to do this. I just look at him now and see all the ways I’ve let him down.”

“You did your best,” Cody says quietly. He’s had this conversation with so many brothers. “Sometimes it’s not enough, sometimes it is. He survived. We carry on.”

“How did you do it? During the war? How did he? Knowing how many people depended on you to make the right call?”

Cody lets his fingers brush Obi-Wan’s hair one last time before moving his hand to Cal’s shoulder. “Like this,” he admits. “By knowing when to share the burden.”

“ _Beep bop_?” BD nudges himself under Cal’s arm and settles closer.

“And if I screw up again?”

“Try not to,” Cody says dryly.

It has the impact he hopes for. Cal snorts and rolls his eyes. “Thanks. Great pep talk.” His tone is teasing but his eyes are serious. 

“Any time, vod’ika. You're not alone. _We_ are a team, too.” Cody squeezes his shoulder and keeps his smile gentle for a moment before turning stern. “Now. Back to bed.”

“But-”

“If you make me carry you, you _will_ regret it.” Cal’s response is untranslatable and still perfectly understandable and would be a lot more intimidating if he didn't nearly unhinge his jaw yawning right after. “I don’t make the rules, kid. You get yourself stabbed, you get yourself bedrest.”

“You’ve been unconscious for two days,” Cal scowls, unimpressed. “You don’t get to pull that poodo.”

“Sure I do,” Cody says easily, helping Cal stand carefully, for all his teasing. “Perks of being the oldest.” He wraps an arm around Cal’s back, then bends his knees and goes to lift him. “We doing this? We can do this-”

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Cal threatens, wiggling out of his grasp with only half a wince. “BD’ll help, won’t you buddy?”

BD’s beep is softly conflicted.

Cody jumps on the opportunity for an ally. “BD knows you gotta rest up if you want to get better,” he says, looking at the droid. “So I think BD’s on my side.”

“ _Boop bop_ ,” BD answers sadly.

“Traitor!” Cal gasps, a hand to his wounded chest. Cody shrugs one shoulder and smirks. “Okay fine!”

Cody’s not completely heartless and makes no teasing comment as he helps Cal back into his bed.

“I’ll stay with both of you,” Cody promises, tucking the blanket around Cal’s shoulders. He doesn’t have the tricks his General had for putting people to sleep, but he knows from experience that brushing his palm gently over fluttering eyelids is a good start.

“You gotta, too-” Cal mumbles. He should’ve been resting hours ago instead of keeping watch.

“I will,” Cody swears, bending down to kiss his forehead the same way he used to do for Rex when they were both very young. “Sleep.”

“Hmm.” That’s all the response he gets from Cal before he’s out.

Turning to BD-1, who has settled back down by Cal’s feet, he adopts his field voice and says, “You’ve got this watch, soldier,” and BD wiggles as he straightens up, infused with authority.

With Cal resting safe, Cody returns to his spot besides Obi-Wan’s bedside. He sinks down into the abandoned chair, shuffles it closer to the bed, and takes one of the boy’s hands in his own.

“I’ve got you, ad’ika,” he whispers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “And I’m gonna take care of you.” With a fond look over his shoulder at Cal, Cody settles himself with the steady, reassuring rhythm of their breathing. “Both of you.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go! But I promise there will be another story (and another POV!) very shortly!  
> Until then, have a little Yoda!

By the time they land back at the Temple, the last of Cody’s injuries have settled to an easily ignorable ache and he’s pilfered Windu’s razor to bring some order to his face and hair. Dressed in a clean tunic and leggings, he joins the somber procession of wounded Jedi making their way home.

Windu leads the way, side by side with Jinn, the casket carrying Dooku’s body behind them. As they have no urgent casualties it’s an honor they can afford to make, Cal and Cere following. Cal keeps a hand on the edge of Obi-Wan’s bed and Cody walks opposite, pleased to see that it is only Yoda and the Council who wait for them.

They’ve taken Obi-Wan off the sedatives and placed him in a light trance. He will wake in a few hours, but whether he will be allowed out of the Halls of Healing any time soon will be down to Vokara Che. Two decades younger than Cody remembers her, she is no less formidable.

Behind them are Merrin, Maul, and the four children they rescued from the dungeon. They all huddle close to the Nightsister, who has barely said a word to anyone other than Maul the whole trip.

And as for the little Zabrak boy... he clutches her tunic and looks up at the Temple in terror.

Kit Fisto brings up the rear, an honor guard and jailer all in one, Vox Chun standing meekly beside him.

“We’re home, ad’ika,” Cody tells Obi-Wan, desperate for the moment he opens his eyes again.

They pause as Windu and Jinn speak to the Council, continuing onwards moments later and is surprised when Master Yoda, looking weary in a hoverchair, summons him from the procession.

“Walk with me, will you?” he asks, then seeing the way Cody looks back over his shoulder at the bed, adds: “Safe, Obi-Wan is here. Go to him soon you can.”

Cody nods, knowing he’s here on the Master’s favor, and nods his head at Cal, who returns the gesture.

He slows his pace to walk side by side with Yoda’s chair, the two of them bypassing the main halls for one of the smaller gardens. It doesn’t have the awe-inspiring spectacle of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, but it’s soothing to be around plantlife that doesn’t want him dead.

When several moments pass in silence, Cody feels the need to say, “I’m sorry about Master Dooku. I know he was your Padawan.”

“Many Padawans I have lost,” Yoda says sadly. “Morn him I shall not; with the Force, he is. A Jedi lives on.” The relief in those words makes Cody think that perhaps those who have fallen _don’t_ go on to join the Force. Either way, he knows enough about them now to read beyond the seeming callousness of their views on death. Yoda can regret Dooku’s death without grief, knowing that the very power he lives in is now suffused with his student’s presence. In times like this, Cody _envies_ the Jedi their faith.

“Weary, your heart is,” Yoda continues. “A home you have here, should you want it. Time to heal, yes, and to learn who you are.”

“With respect, Master Yoda, I know who I am.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m a clone.”

“Commander,” Yoda agrees. “Brother. Soldier. Protector. Want more, do you?”

The question stuns him. Does he? What more can he want? He knows what he is, what he was made for. He just wants to do things right. “I have everything I need.”

 _Father_. 

“Cal Kestis,” Yoda surmises, “and Obi-Wan. Stay with them, we will allow. Need you, they do. Need them, _you_ do. Heal each other, you shall.”

“You’re not going to separate us -them? Cal and Obi-Wan? I thought Master Jinn might-” after everything, after losing his own Master, he wouldn’t _blame_ Jinn for wanting Obi-Wan back.

“Past, that time is. Need Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon did.”

“Then why did you give him to Cal?” That’s what Cody doesn’t understand. Whatever machinations the Council might have in mind for Jinn and Obi-Wan, Cal is still only eighteen, Knighted in the field and with less than a year of his own Padawanship under his belt. If Obi-Wan’s destiny is so important, why give him to Cal? Why send him to the Agricorps in the first place? Why did it take an act of self-sacrifice to convince a Master to take him when his tutors all sang his praises?

The ineffable Master inclines his head. Remorse. Sorrow. Yoda is famously unreadable, and yet Cody can see his struggles. It’s humbling. And frightening.

“Know Obi-Wan from a crecheling, I have. Saw much Light in him, yes, but darkness too. A quick temper. Quicker mind. Arrogant, he could be.”

Cody stares at him. “Are we talking about the same kid?” The temper he knows and understands. But arrogant? Really? Yoda’s ears twitch and Cody reigns in the urge to continue in the kid’s defense. “Sorry.”

“Hmph.” Cody’s lucky he’s not in reach of that wretched stick. “Much Light, I said. And much love. Struggle with that, many Jedi do. To love without attachment. Struggle with it too, perhaps Obi-Wan might.”

“Might?” Cody’s been living in fear of the day someone decided that Obi-Wan was too attached to him. He knows _he’s_ attached to the boy but he’s not sworn his life to the Jedi Code.

“Not attachment, your feelings for him. Nor his for you.”

“They’re not?”

“Selfish, attachment is. Prideful. Leads to jealousy. To anger. To the Dark Side. Infused in the Light, love is. If selfish, your love for him was, into the Sith fortress you would not have ventured.” He seems to look right into Cody’s soul and waits, ever the teacher, for him to catch up.

“I wanted to protect him,” Cody says slowly, “but I knew...” he knew they had to go back for the other children. Obi-Wan’s morality demanded it. _His_ morality demanded it. He could’ve denied him. Forced him back to the ship. The thought had crossed his mind, but only for a moment... “Oh.”

“Oh!” Yoda agrees. “To Love, the Jedi are encouraged. Compassion, empathy, kindness, are the Jedi way. Need love to function they all do. Needed those, Qui-Gon did. Offer them, Obi-Wan could.” Cody doesn’t doubt that. Even now, the boy’s heart glows with goodness. Even in that Sith-hole, even while being tortured, Obi-Wan reached out to Maul with his gentle soul and changed the fate of the Galaxy.

It still doesn’t explain why they then took Obi-Wan _away_ from Jinn. If he’s supposed to bring love and warmth back into Jinn’s life - and from his last few interactions with the man he’d say Obi-Wan has succeeded - then why risk undoing it all?

His face must show his confusion, as Yoda continues, his ears drooping. “Not arrogance that fed the dark in the boy,” he admits, “but insecurity and fear. Created the darkness in him, I did.”

He must’ve heard wrong. “You? How? Why? _How_?”

“Adamant, Qui-Gon was, that another Padawan he would not take. Certain, _I_ was, that he needed Obi-Wan. When other Masters asked of the boy, tell them this, I did.”

Just like that, the picture before him snaps into focus. It leaves him _breathless_ with anger.

“You gambled a child’s future on the belief that he _might_ help a grown man get over his shit?” Cody demands. “You...” he’s struggling to find the words, struck only by how very old, very frail, and surprisingly _mortal_ Yoda looks. And how much _damage_ has been done. “Well, you solved the arrogance problem! He thinks no one wanted him! He thinks Jinn took him out of pity!He thinks the reason you send him on your most dangerous and important missions isn’t because he’s the best person for them but because he’s kriffing expendable! He thinks his own pain means nothing so long as he’s _perfect_ and anything short of that is to be turned into an exercise of self-flagellation, and he thinks that _for the rest of his life!_ ”

He takes a breath, half expecting Yoda to interrupt his tirade. The part of him that will always be CC-2224 recoils in horror at speaking to a Jedi - to Yoda - like this, but the part of him that Obi-Wan nurtured and allowed to bathe in that Light has finally reached his limit.

“And then you gave him to Jinn who promptly _abandoned him in the middle of a war_.” Angry tears are burning in his eyes as he traces one timeline to its painful conclusion and loses himself in speculation over a second. “We really _are_ all just tools to you.”

“Ask me again why to Cal Kestis we gave him,” Yoda says solemnly. “Not a tool. A gift. Changed his fate, you have. Changed all our fates. For better, perhaps, or worse. Remedy what errors we can, and make new ones no doubt, but stronger in the Light Obi-Wan will be.” Even now? Even hurting so badly? “Told you, I did. Light, love is.”

Obi-Wan is loved. Fiercely. By Cal and Jinn. And by Cody. So loved.

“Face the dark, you shall. Defeat it, you must.”

He knows the stakes. He knows where failure leads.

“They’ll come for him,” Cody warns. “The Sith.” And who knows who else.

Yoda nods sadly. “Protect him, you cannot.”

For all that Cody wants to rail against him, he recognizes the truth of Yoda’s words. The past month has taught him that if nothing else. Hell, the _war_ taught him, he was just too stubborn and proud to admit it.

“Then I’ll prepare him,” he says firmly. And when the dust settles and Obi-Wan survives the unsurvivable, Cody will be there to put him back together again. Between him and Cal, the boy isn’t going to be alone ever again.

“Hmph,” Yoda says. “So certain you are.”

“Cal and I are almost as hard to kill as he is,” Cody says dryly. “He'll be ready.”

* * *

Obi-Wan is awake when Cody returns to the Halls of Healing. Vokara Che lets him into the room, those missing years rapidly reappearing in her eyes as she gives the boy a fleeting look before leaving.

“See?” Cal’s gentle voice doesn’t distract Cody from the sheer relief of seeing Obi-Wan sitting upright, his eyes open. Most of the bruises have faded and the worst of the cuts paled to thin pink lines that will eventually leave his face unscared. He’s still pale and there are still batca wraps around his wrists, but he looks so much better than the bloody waif they rescued. Jedi Healing truly is a wonder. “I told you he’d be back.”

He has a private room and Cal is the only other occupant, but the rest of their motley ensemble will no doubt not be far. Now he’s done with Yoda, Windu, Qui-Gon, and Fisto will no doubt be meeting the Council to discuss everything that’s happened. Cody doesn’t begrudge the peace or the privacy.

Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything, but his jaw starts to tremble on seeing Cody. Even healed, he looks so small and so frail it breaks his heart.

“It’s okay,” Cal promises him. “Don’t deny what you’re feeling. It’s just us. You never have to hide from us.”

At his first sob, Cody crosses the room as if summoned by the Force. He seats himself on the edge of the bed and holds open his arms. A moment later, Obi-Wan throws himself into them, the same way he did with Jinn. And just like Jinn, he digs his fingers tightly into Cody’s tunic, buries his face in his shoulder, and weeps.

Cody’s not a Jedi, but this has to count as releasing emotions into the Force, right?

Settling one hand around the curve of the boy’s skull and wrapping the other around his skinny back, Cody shifts his weight until it’s more comfortable for the both of them, and gently starts to rock back and forward.

This time, Cal doesn’t join in. Instead, he slips off his seat and kneels calmly on the floor before them. His face relaxes as he sinks into meditation and Cody _feels_ them all fall into the bright warmth he wraps around them.

“I’m so proud of you, ad’ika,” Cody whispers, holding Obi-Wan as he cries.

Yoda’s right, this _is_ Light, and they glow with it, Obi-Wan a heartbeat of energy between them. 

Many things will change in the coming years, but not that.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're here! 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has followed along with this utterly bonkers story! I hope you had fun (and feels) and thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me! 
> 
> We will be back with the trio soon enough (with extra POVs for the fun of it!) with a fairly fluffy, low stakes Temple fic before we dive back in with the next long fic in this series. We're nowhere near done yet!
> 
> (Also! [I'm beamirang on tumblr](https://beamirang.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi!)

Cody’s reached the point in his life where he’s expected to have an opinion on what color he wants his tunics. It leads to an awkward conversation with a young Padawan who still has a thing to learn about patience. Cody’s bewildered confusion is a point of contention for a solid ten minutes before Cal steps in.

“Those ones,” Cal says, pointing at an image on the Padawan’s datapad, “and with that trim.”

Whatever he points at makes the Padawan’s eyebrows climb, but he bows and takes his leave. Cody’s still not sure what’s happening.

“I have clothes,” he says, and he does. Three tunics and a pair of leggings and some sturdy pants. Plus the armor he’s been assigned. He also has two pairs of boots. “Why do I need more? Why do they care what color they are? Why do they think _I_ care what color they are?”

“Baby steps, buddy,” Cal says with a cheerful clap on his shoulder. “You’re your own man now; you don’t have to wear the things assigned to you. You can choose.”

“No thanks,” Cody shakes his head. He already has too much choice as it is. After a lifetime of eating ration packs, a carefully controlled diet and then scavenging whatever’s been available the sheer number of options in the commissary is overwhelming. He’ll eat whatever’s put in front of him, he’s not fussy, but kark, don’t ask him to _chose_.

“I know,” Cal assures him. “But you’ll get there.” Cal’s stepped in to bridge the space between the unending freedom to make his own choices and the mortal panic of _having_ to. He can read Cody well enough to pick up on the few preferences he does have and is stubborn enough to keep pushing him to explore new options.

“It’s a tunic,” he says a little helplessly. “Why’s it have to be complicated?”

“I’m probably not the best person to ask,” Cal says dryly. “I wore the same poncho for six years.”

Cody pulls his head out of his tunic-themed panic and looks Cal over. He _did_ wear the same clothes, but they’re long gone now. He accepted plain tunics and pants to wear in the three weeks they spent looking for Obi-Wan, but he’s swapped them for more familiar, more appropriate attire.

For the first time in his life, Cal Kestis is wearing the full robes of a Jedi Knight. His saber hangs at his belt and he’s finally tamed the wild mess of hair. He looks every inch the respectable, honorable image of a Jedi and Cody has no kriffing clue why that makes _his_ throat feel so tight.

“Looking good, kid,” he says, soft with gruff affection.

Cal flushes, dragging his hand through his hair and mussing it up. “I keep tripping over the robe,” he mutters.

Cody snorts. “Of course you do. Who decided you Jedi were all so kriffing graceful?”

Cal rolls his eyes and elbows Cody in the side as he steps past him to knock softly on one of the closed bedroom doors.

Being something of a unique formation, there aren’t actually any three-bedroom apartments in the Temple. Cody has his own single room in the block usually held for visiting dignitaries and guests, while Cal and Obi-Wan have a suite reserved for a Master and Padawan team. Cody’s slept on their couch every night. It’s more comfortable than most of the bunks he’s ever had, and it means he’s on hand when Obi-Wan has a nightmare.

He has a lot of nightmares.

So does Cal.

So does Cody, actually, which leaves them kriffed on three fronts. But they muddle through.

“Come on, Padawan,” Cal calls through the closed door. “Time to go!”

Living with Obi-Wan - or on his couch at least - is a little like living with a ghost. The kid barely says a word, moving silently from place to place as though fearful of making a sound and attracting too much attention. Tomorrow he can return to class with his agemates and hopefully the routine will help to settle his anxiety.

It’ll probably increase Cody’s since he thinks the Council will draw the line at sitting in on classes with a group of teenagers, but he and Cal have enough to be keeping busy while Obi-Wan studies.

Obi-Wan’s door slides open and he steps out into the warm morning light that streams through the apartment window. He’s still pale and wan, sleepless nights drawing dark rings around his eyes, but he’s getting better day by day. Cal’s keen to build his stamina back up, which means three square meals, two hours of gentle katas a day and a _lot_ of meditation. That’ll continue alongside his classes until he’s strong enough to return to sparring.

“You ready to go?”

Obi-Wan tucks his chin down. “Yes, Master.”

Another part of Obi-Wan’s day is given over to the Mind Healers. Cody has no kriffing clue what they talk about - or how any healer is even remotely equipped to deal with the kind of experience Obi-Wan has endured - but they drop him off once a day for an hour, then follow him like fretting tookas mothers to the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Today’s session seems to go as well as any other, with Obi-Wan saying little on the way there and even less on the way back. He’s often withdrawn, lost inside his own head, and it’s hard to understand how Cody can _miss_ him so badly when he’s right beside him.

They have a spot in the gardens now that’s ‘theirs’. The events on Sojourn are of the most sensitive and disturbing nature, so naturally, the whole Order knows. There’s chaos in the Senate that, thankfully, they need to have no involvement in, but there’s no escaping the fact that everyone inside the Temple _knows_ what happened. Or they know part of it. Enough to speculate. Wildly.

And with Obi-Wan so visibly hurt, surrounded at all times by the enigma of Cal and the _kriff-off_ vibes of Cody, there’s no real way to stop the gossip.

It’s compassionate though, or mostly, and while the Jedi might speculate among themselves, not one of them is callous enough to do so in front of Obi-Wan. They give him space and Cody doesn’t have to hit anyone.

In this small, secluded spot, Obi-Wan seems to find some peace. Sometimes, he even manages to fall asleep under the boughs of a towering, leafy woba tree. There’s a silent, mutually enforced agreement to leave him the krif alone when he’s here.

Which is why Cody can relax enough to sit against the tree and let the breeze wash over him, a peaceful balm to his soul. Cal and Obi-Wan kneel together on the edge of a small pool of water, deep in the kind of meditation that makes them glow from the inside.

It’s also why he doesn’t immediately reach for his blaster when a shadow falls over his outstretched legs.

Cody lifts his head into the light before slowly rising from his comfortable position. Cal and Obi-Wan are already coming out of their meditations and join him a moment later.

“Forgive our intrusion,” Qui-Gon Jinn bows his head in greeting, “but we thought you might want to say goodbye before we leave.” The Jedi has his hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes, a distant, polite calmness around him that softens slightly in the presence of Obi-Wan. Besides him, Merrin runs an absent finger along the edge of her opposite sleeve and stubbornly refuses to look at any of them.

“You’re heading back to Dathomir?” Cody asks. He supposes it’s overdue - they only left their mission there in order to find Maul, and now he’s been rescued from the Sith it’s time he went home - but he worries about Merrin and the subdued way she has held herself apart from them, barely speaking to anyone, least of all Cal. And, kriffing hells, he worried about Jinn.

“We’ve delayed too long already,” Jinn says reluctantly.

From between the two of them, Maul suddenly wriggles forward and tackles Obi-Wan hard enough to knock them both off their feet. Cody tenses, knowing how skittish the kid is with physical contact, and only relaxes when he wraps his arms around Maul and hugs him back.

He can just about hear the words, “Obi come with us?” whispered into Obi-Wan’s collar.

“Not this time,” Obi-Wan replies, whisper-soft. “You could visit?”

“Dathomir is better,” Maul sulks. “We are fierce and strong.” He pulls back and looks thoughtful. “We have Gorgara.”

Cal, at Cody’s side, whispers an emphatic, “Nope,” under his breath. When Cody frowns, a silent request for clarification, he adds, “Giant murder bird,” and BD-1 lets out a trembling trill. “Wouldn’t recommend.”

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan agrees. “When your mission is done. If my Master says it’s okay.” From the look on Cal’s face, Dathomir is the last place he’d pick for a vacation.

“You’ll come to Dathomir,” Maul says firmly, taking Obi-Wan’s ‘maybe’ and ignoring his visible unease. “I will show you.”

Obi-Wan just nods and hugs Maul again before pulling them both to their feet. The two boys cling to each other, for a moment lost in a world of experiences only the two of them can really understand.

In one reality they exist as opposite sides of a coin - two child soldiers sacrificing everything to become the embodiment of the faith they hold so sacred. Now, here, maybe they can be more.

When Maul finally steps away and rejoins Merrin and Jinn, Obi-Wan stubbornly raises his chin. It’s the most animated he’s been since waking and Cody rejoices at the sight of that familiar stubbornness. “Make sure he’s safe,” he tells them. There’s a level of demand - of authority - in his voice that’s not been there before, but that Cody recognizes well from listening to his General put people back in line. It’s the voice of experience. Of a survivor.

“I will protect him and his people,” Merrin swears it. “The Jedi will help,” she adds, shooting Jinn a sidelong look.

The corners of Cal’s lips turn up. “Merrin-”

“Goodbye, Cal Kestis,” she cuts him off sharply before nodding at Cody and Obi-Wan, “be well, little Jedi.”

Cody can read Cal well enough by now to see the pain and confusion he tries to hide. He doesn’t understand her coldness, and he doesn’t understand the guilt she wears like a mourning shroud. Cody does. He’ll talk to him. “May the Force be with you,” Cal says, an audible lump in his throat.

Merrin hesitates, then gives them a final nod before leading Maul away.

“I’ll look after them,” Jinn promises. “Give her time.”

Cal shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Give yourself time, too,” Jinn advises. “All of you. Look after your Padawan, Master Kestis.” Jinn’s eyes are bright. Sad. And very lonely. “He is a greater treasure than you can ever know.”

Cal takes the words as they were intended, but puts his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders and draws the boy gently back against himself. Obi-Wan moves easily, a flower starved of sunlight finally stepping into the light. “I know,” Cal says seriously.

Jinn smiles and inclines his head. “Perhaps you do. May the Force be with you all.”

He leaves without another word, the world around them settling back into the musical serenity of falling water and playfully dancing wind chimes. Forget that couch, Cody wants to live _here._ The sun is pooling on a spot of grass right beside the big, sheltering tree and it would be the perfect place to-

“Master?” Obi-Wan’s small voice draws him out of his nap themed fantasy and he turns, alert. Obi-Wan says so little these days he’s not about to ignore anything.

“Yeah?”

“We don’t have to go on another mission yet, do we?” He sounds hesitant when he asks.

Cody knows the Council have no plans to send them anywhere any time soon. He knows because he's heavily implied to Mace Windu that to do otherwise would result in property damage. Now he has to sit through a lecture on ‘interfering with Council business’ every time he sees the man, but he does have his reassurance that Obi-Wan will be allowed all the time he needs to heal.

Cody will sit through as many lectures as he needs to if that’s the result. He mastered sleeping with his eyes open _years_ ago.

“You have classes to go to,” Cal assures him. “I have three hours of sparring practice scheduled with Master Windu every day for a month, and Cody is going to terrorize some Padawans. No, we’re not going anywhere for a while.”

“Good. I mean... it’s not that I don’t want to leave. Or help people. I know it’s our duty, and I want to, I do, but-” but the last few times he’s left the safety of these walls he’s been thrown into deeper and deeper pits of hell.

Cal pulls him close again and tucks him under his arm. “Your duty is to do your classwork. My duty is to make sure you’re safe and happy. And Cody’s is to-”

“Terrorize some Padawans?” Obi-Wan adds with timid playfulness.

Cody, who is officially on the rota as an “Advanced Combat Instructor” has actual _written_ approval from the Jedi High Council to ensure these kids are in the least partway prepared for someone trying to murder them horribly. It’s an unprecedented move and deeply unpopular with a lot of the older Masters, but Cody gives roughly a tenth of a krif. “They aren’t gonna know what hit em,” he says smugly.

“I can take this class, right?” Obi-Wan asks.

“No,” Cody says.

“Yes,” Cal says.

“Thanks, Master.”

“ _Krif it_.”

“You can take it,” Cal promises, rolling his eyes when Cody pulls a face, “ _if_ you do well in your other classes. It’s advanced for a reason.” No one points out the obvious flaw in his argument, namely the decapitated Sith Lord currently being held in a sealed vault several hundred levels below their feet. “Besides, you need to work with your agemates first. Master Cere and I have a few exercises for you to go through.”

Obi-Wan freezes so fast that Cody instantly starts to look for a threat. This time, though, the horror on Obi-Wan’s face is entirely childish. Gone are the haunted, somber eyes of the traumatized, and instead he looks righteously offended and utterly disgusted as only a teenage boy can.

“You want me to train with _Bruck?”_ It’s the loudest he’s raised his voice yet. Cody and Cal share a look - and a smirk. “Master!”

They’ve a long way to go, and a lot of healing left to do, but the child in Obi-Wan still lives and for that, there isn’t a price too steep for Cody to pay.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Good Person](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485588) by [TheStageManager](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStageManager/pseuds/TheStageManager)




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